The day continued in the palace, oblivious of the treacherous escape that had happened.
Damon himself, was relaxing in his chambers. But it wouldn't last for long.
His chambers were dimly lit, with the heavy curtains drawn just enough to keep the world outside at a distance.
Euphemia, the second Queen, stood near the window, with her fingers grazing the curtain as she watched the structures beyond.
"So it's true, then," she said softly. "You've made your decision."
Damon didn't look at her.
He sat with one leg crossed over the other, and a glass resting loosely in his hand. His expression was unreadable, similar to something colder than indifference.
"Yes," he said at last, "the Empire needs it."
Euphemia turned slightly, her lips curving into something pleased, though she hid it well.
"And the Lords?" she asked. "They've been informed?"
"They will be," Damon replied. "When it suits me."
She hummed lightly, stepping closer.
