The second prince or for some others the emperor , Mavius, sat in the dimly lit tent, his tall frame draped lazily over a finely carved wooden chair. The awfully now turning cold wind howled outside, but inside, the scent of spiced wine filled the air.
His hand curled around a silver goblet, sipping slowly from it as the dark liquid swirled with each motion. His face, remained calm yet distant, as if the world outside his tent hardly touched him.For the last days he had only received bad news and his mood was consequently going down.
Lord Coway stood stiffly before him, his face lined with weariness. The storms that they had attempted throughout the day had not been merciful.
