Azriel sitting on the roof, still reading, suddenly hears trumpets from the east. Those trumpets meant that the competition is about to begin.
With a flick of his hand, the book vanished into thin air.
In the blink of an eye, he disappeared from the rooftop and reappeared at the grand competition grounds.
The crowd, on seeing the dark fog that materialized before them, knew who had arrived. They bowed before him, paying respect to their lord.
The Mistresses also bowed respectfully.
Azriel didn't spare them a glance and his eyes directly swept around the field searching for a particular figure.
He suddenly saw her, sitting by the throne, looking dazzling in her armor and her fiery red hair which he loved, tied up in a bun.
He smiled, not because of seeing her but because she was the only one who didn't bow.
Everyone had their heads down but she was staring into space and pretended to not see him.
