The throne room was cold despite the golden sunlight pouring in from the high arched windows. It never quite reached the marble floor, never softened the sharp gleam of the Queen's polished nails as she drummed them idly against the arm of her chair. The sound was deliberate, measured, a slow counting of the seconds Kyran had kept her waiting.
He bowed low before them, the perfect image of deference, though his mind was already thinking of the future of this conversation and how he should answer the questions the King and Queen would most assuredly ask.
"Where is His Grace?" the Queen asked, her voice silk-thin and sharp. "Has he not come for his audience."
Kyran straightened, his expression a mask of practiced calm. "His Grace and Miss Elara are newly engaged. They have begun Velanora's Embrace."