Letting himself deeper into the throne hall, Briceus was at first overtaken by the embattled scenery in the form of banners which stayed drooping from the walls. Between each banner hung a torch; all but a few had been lit to illuminate the sculptures below them; sculptures of late Royal ancestry including his late father's—Lord Voldemort.
By this time, he had just rested his focus on the gems of beautiful artistry displayed in the bow-shaped ceiling amidst the flickering light from the bulky braziers, when his line of thought got disrupted.
"Your Highness!"
The Speaker called out to him in a tone of sobriety.
The coarseness of the Speaker's voice and the intention of the Speaker, Briceus could not have missed that much.
He turned around to catch a glimpse of his much recognized family foe.
"Duke Wauter!" exclaimed the King in an unexcited tone.
