"Open the doors," a priest murmured.
The hinges groaned as the great chamber revealed itself. Dawn filtered through colored glass, painting the floor with red and gold.
The scent of incense hung heavy, curling toward the high ceiling.
Guards lined the hallways and stood rigid with their spears gleaming faintly in the early light.
Metheea stepped inside.
Her heart still raced with the memory of last night, of Azrayel's touch that had left her shaken. Fear, shame, and something darker clung to her skin. She wanted to forget, but silence refused to let her.
Yet she could not ignore their father's summon.
She knew this was about Azrayel's maturity, a topic she dreaded to speak of and even worse, she now had to face Azrayel here after all that had happened.
Across the chamber, Azrayel entered through another door. His steps echoed against the polished stone. Their eyes met, but he looked away quickly.
