"Sir Aron Mizio, envoy in the stead of Her Grace, Jasmine Veloni-isha, First of her Name, Princess of Yarzat, Princess of Herculia,protector of the Highlands and Lowlands, presents himself to the court!"
The massive gilded doors were shoved open with a violence that felt intentional, as if desiring to startle the man who stepped through. Aron took a singular, bracing breath and stepped into the lion's den.
The assault was immediate.
The air in the Oizenian court was thick, a suffocating mixture of heavy, cloying perfumes and the stale heat of too many bodies packed into a stone box. Aron's nose wrinkled instinctively. Between the stench of the shit-ridden streets in the city, that he could feel miles away, and the perfumed rot of the palace, he decided he preferred the sewers, at least the filth there didn't pretend to be roses.
