The Grand Halls of Submareth still smelled of blood and fear, though the bodies of Thalassaria's slain suitors had long been cleared away.
The courtiers swam through the coral avenues with forced calm, but the whispers never ceased.
Some praised their queen's decisive cruelty. Others nursed quiet bitterness, unable to forget how their lords and brothers had died drowning in her light.
And bitterness is fertile ground.
One such bitter heart belonged to Sarven, vassal to the late Prince of Thal'Azuul.
He had watched his master die without even the dignity of battle, snuffed out like a torch.
Loyalty had curdled into resentment, and resentment had driven him to a reckless act.
When an Ignarion merchant ship strayed too close to Submareth's outer reefs, Sarven arranged for it not to be destroyed.
While Thalassaria's warriors tore into other vessels with glee, this one he let slip through a gap in the blockade, dragging its trembling captain and crew into a hidden grotto.
