The black marble beneath their feet trembled slightly as ancient glyphs activated deep below the throne room. A rumbling, low and patient, stirred the air.
From the far end of the hall, Griv appeared—almost floating rather than walking, so light were his nimble steps. His butler coat was slightly crooked, a monocle perched awkwardly over one yellow eye, and he bowed so deeply it seemed his back might snap.
"My Lord, the portal has been summoned. All awaits your illustrious command," he said, his voice oozing an aristocratic purr. "Might I suggest a cloak for the Young Miss? She seems... ripe for the picking."
Erina stiffened, pulling her travel cloak tighter around her flushed body.Zafira gave a soft, wicked laugh.
Leonhardt's gaze flicked lazily toward Griv."Let them see," he said simply.
The words dropped into the silence like stones into a still pond.
Griv, ever the professional, simply grinned wider and turned on his heel, leading the way across the dark hall.
