The room was dark as if the light itself knew better than to linger too long in the chambers of a king who hunted monsters by moonlight and ruled a court full of them by day.
Heavy black curtains were half-drawn, letting in just enough sun to paint faint gold on the obsidian columns that framed the walls. The chandelier above him dripped with onyx crystals. Shelves lined with old tomes, and light came from a few flickering sconces.
Thalos was perched sideways on an elongated velvet couch near the hearth, one leg draped lazily over the other, a thick, worn leather book held open in his hand. He didn't look up as Lycien entered the room.
"Your Majesty," Lycien greeted with a low bow, eyes briefly flicking to the untouched outfit prepared by the royal dresser.
No response. Only the turning of a page.
"…Forgive me, but shouldn't you be getting ready? The Kill Count begins soon."
