In a dark chamber built deep underground sat seven figures around a large round table.
A foreboding silence rang in the air.
The air was perilous.
Electric.
"…Is this real?" One man narrowed his eyes, reading a report.
"It is, Don Jiteliana," Prince Rajak replied.
Don Jiteliana's expression grew ugly. "Prince Rui Quarrier Kandria, hm?"
A fierce, malevolent bloodlust lit up in the depths of his eyes.
"What a profoundly displeasing turn of events."
His dark robes fluttered as he shook with disgust at the report.
"Relax, Jiteliana," A seductive voice chimed in.
"Do not command me, harlot," Don Jiteliana's eyes lit up with rage, glaring at her. "Get your legs off the table before I chop them off."
The threat in his eyes was palpable.
