For a while, they stood together on the balcony in silence, letting the night wind cool their faces, until footsteps approached from the corridor behind them. A servant bowed deeply at the door, his voice careful, respectful, as if speaking too loudly might be a sin.
"Master Azrael," he said. "His Majesty requests your presence privately."
Rael's stomach tightened.
Eon's grip on his sleeve tightened too.
Rael exhaled slowly and nodded. "Understood."
*
The room he was brought to was not the grand hall, nor Aurelius' study.
It was a smaller receiving chamber, one meant for private discussions, with a fireplace burning low and thick curtains drawn across the windows. Only two people were inside.
King Arthur sat calmly, his royal cloak draped over the chair like a lion's mane, his golden hair catching the firelight. Aurelius stood near the side, arms crossed, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp.
The moment Rael entered, the air became heavier.
Not because of arcana pressure.
