The Throne Hall
Footfalls echoing, Leon moved ahead with his wives behind him into the palace's vast doorway. Air thickened fast.
Under sunlight, warmth filled the palace gardens beyond its walls. Open spaces stretched where morning light touched everything gently.
Inside - the air felt different.
Heavier.
Older.
Heavy air filled the rooms, not just from thick stone or high ceilings, yet carried by time - by choices made, truths hidden, lives shaped within these corridors long before Leon arrived.
A ribbon of thick cloth unrolled ahead, colored dark red and threaded through with gold designs that curled in on themselves. Light fell from the hanging lamps overhead, making the fibers catch brightness in soft pulses - like tiny fires breathing low under the surface.
Each step barely made a sound on the surface. Quiet thuds followed one after another across the floor.
Measured.
