Kylian walked with purpose through the grand halls of the palace, his boots striking the polished marble floors in a steady rhythm. The echoes of his footsteps faded as he neared the doors to the King's court, his expression carefully schooled into one of detached focus. He was no longer thinking about Marius or the strange, tightening knot of emotions that gripped him whenever the boy was near. No, now his mind was on the task at hand—the matter of the southern envoy's arrival.
Pushing open the heavy doors, he stepped into the court, greeted by the murmurs of the King's advisors and the flicker of candlelight casting long shadows on the stone walls. His father, the King, sat upon his gilded throne, listening to the voices of the court with an expression of mild interest, his chin resting on his hand.
