The air in the Throne Room was thick with the scent of beeswax and expensive perfumes.
It was a formal reception—not exactly a victory ball—the kind of gathering Elias had once navigated with a certain light-hearted grace, but which now felt like a test of endurance.
At the center of the room, Xavier stood before the dais, his voice booming as he recounted the final push through the Valmere Pass. He understood what enticed the nobles and he gave them what they needed accordingly.
"The siege of the town," Xavier proclaimed, gesturing broadly to the circle of attentive lords. "Was perfectly timed. The Veyrathi thought they could use winter as their shield, but His Majesty saw through their plan just in time. There were... necessary losses, of course. A sacrifice at the bridge to ensure the main force could flank the pylon arrays. But the result speaks for itself. Total capitulation."
The room erupted into polite, fervent applause.
