Seated on his throne, Artios observed the crowd that filled the great hall, illuminated only by the flickering light of the torches and the soft golden glow filtering through the imposing stained glass windows. The atmosphere was dense, charged with a palpable tension, reverberating in the muffled whispers echoing through the corridors.
— Silence! — Kalmir's voice, firm and commanding, thundered through the hall. He stood a few steps below the throne, with a presence almost as intimidating as the king's. — Let the annual meeting of the kingdom's nobles begin! — With a solemn motion, he turned to the king. — Your Majesty, all are ready to hear you.
Artios kept his gaze steady on the assembly. The commoners watched him with a mix of fear and curiosity, while the nobles, haughty, struggled to hide the unease flickering in their eyes. The king sensed an invisible threat lingering in the air, like a beast lurking in the shadows.
