A throne room, vast and dim, lit only by the thin shafts of evening light slipping through the high, narrow windows. Dust drifted lazily through the beams and pooled along the floor. The air was so still that even the smallest movement seemed to echo back from the stone walls.
At the far end of the hall, the figure seated upon the throne leaned against the backrest. Their head tilted forward slightly, fingers tapping once against the armrest, legs crossed over one another with ease
“How is everything progressing?”
A woman in dark robes stepped from the shadows, her movements soundless. She dropped to one knee, bowing her head low at the figure. “Everything is in order. All according to plan, so far.”
“And our spy? How is Shadow?” The voice from the throne was calm, but the question carried weight that felt like knives sharp enough to cut.
“No reports since before sunset,” she replied. “But I trust things are moving as expected.”
A long pause followed… too long for comfort. The silence pressed against the walls like a held breath.
“Good,” the figure finally said. “And the girl?”
The woman hesitated, just for a breath, but enough.
“She is being… stubborn. As usual. But do not worry. Hex will loosen her tongue.”
A faint shift of posture from the throne. Approval? Or something colder. The tapping stopped.
“I did not ask for excuses, Eclipse.” His feet planted firmly on the ground now, his fingers drumming once with clear disapproval.
“My sincerest apologies,” she said quickly, bowing her head deeper. “I will see it gets done with great haste.”
“Very well. Report the moment anything changes. You are dismissed.”
She got up and bowed deeply, backing away before turning to exit. The heavy doors groaned as they opened, spilling a thin sliver of light into the vast chamber.
The last sliver of light from the doors fading in the heavy quiet that followed the women's departure; the throne room seemed to lean inward before the doors closed again with a low, resonant thud. The soft whisper of fabric peered in as the figure on the throne settled back, waiting, in the vast chamber until only the thin, dying beams from the windows remained.
Shadows gathered at the edges of the hall, stretching long across the stone. The figure’s fingers resumed their slow, rhythmic tapping. Somewhere high above, a loose chain swayed with a faint metallic clink, the sound echoing from overhead.
Moments later, a faint shift of air stirred the dust again, colder this time, as though winter itself had slipped through a crack in the stone. The figure on the throne did not look up, but the tapping of his fingers slowed.
A silhouette emerged near one of the far pillars, darker than the shadows around it. Frost clung to the stone where it passed, like breath crystallizing on glass. A small, dark navy-blue cloak trailed behind them, edges whispering across the floor with a sound like ice fracturing.
“Veil,” the figure on the throne acknowledged.
The newcomer bowed deeply. The hat atop their head was unmistakably that of a witch’s, tall, pointed, with a dark lace wrapped around the base like a band. Frost clung to the brim, glittering faintly in the dim light.
“It is done, my liege,” Veil said, her voice low and cool, carrying the faintest echo as if spoken through a cavern of ice.
“And the prisoners?”
“Accounted for, with only a few missing, but we have the Lords. No one will find them.”
A thin smile, barely a curve, showed on the figures' face as he sat upon the throne. “Efficient, as always.”
Veil’s eyes glinted beneath the hood, pale and sharp, like shards of winter glass.
“If I may be permitted to speak.”
A long pause followed, stretching just enough to test Veil’s patience.
“You may.”
“What is the purpose of that… annoying guard you have placed to watch them?”
The figure’s expression shifted subtly.
“I have placed him there to give Shadow their next orders, should they meet.”
“Of course,” Veil said, bowing her head slightly more. “Forgive my ignorance. I was only curious.”
“Very well. Now then, I have another task for you. Hex will fill you in on the details.”
“As you wish.”
Veil inclined their head once more, then stepped backward into the darkness. Frost melted where they had stood, leaving only a faint shimmer on the stone.
The throne room grew still again, but the cold lingered, as though Veil’s presence had left a piece of winter behind. The figure on the throne leaned back slowly, fingers resuming their quiet tapping, and somewhere deep in the hall, a distant crack of ice echoed… though no one else was there to hear it.
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