The Court of Chains had no throne.
At least, not in any form the lesser kingdoms would recognize. There were no gilded seats, no jewel-studded chairs to announce dominion. Here, power was not seated — it was suspended. It hung in the air like the weight before a storm, unseen yet undeniable, pressing down on the skin and sinking into the lungs. The heart of the chamber was a cavernous hall of black stone so immense that sound seemed to dissolve before reaching the far walls. Even a single footstep felt swallowed, as though the room had been built not to carry noise, but to consume it.
