Nikitin rose from his seat, followed by the others, as Prince Magnus's voice resonated through the hall. Griffin also turned to face the prince, his head bowed in respect. The heavy thud of Magnus's boots echoed in the suddenly silent room, the previous chatter dying instantly at his presence.
"I didn't expect His Highness to grace us with his presence," Nikitin ventured cautiously.
"Nor did I," Magnus replied, his tone cold. "It seems you elites have plenty of time on your hands, enough to gather here and amuse yourselves by humiliating those of lower rank." His eyes flicked disdainfully toward three vampires, each standing beside a bowed slave. "And who gave permission for slaves to enter this hall?" Magnus demanded, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.
"Forgive us, Your Highness," the three vampires stammered in unison, lowering their heads further in shame.
