"You're requested." A young dark fae approached Aire, breaking her train of thought.
Aire immediately stood up. She sniffed, and threw her emotions to the back of her mind, and folded the dark fae without asking any question.
The further they walked away from Lysander's chamber corridor, the more Aire felt that something was wrong.
Aire knew it before she reached the council chamber.
Every servant she passed lowered their heads quickly, which was unusual. Even the guards standing beneath the black pillars refused to look directly at her.
Her footsteps slowed.
The enormous obsidian doors at the end of the corridor stood open.
She crossed the threshold, and walked into the vast chamber before her.
Its ceiling disappeared into darkness where crystal chandeliers floated like captured constellations. Black banners bearing the crest of the Dark Fae hung motionless despite the wind she could hear somewhere high above.
Vaelor stood beside the throne.
