The throne room was on fire. Three different colors. None of them were winning.
Kael's gold flame came out of both hands in a continuous "die and stay dead" stream that should've incinerated anything living within thirty feet. Ryker's red flame slammed Emma from the left flank. Griffin's green dropped in from the right.
Emma stood in the center of it, untouched, underwhelmed, and unimpressed by the three grown men giving it everything they had.
The flames broke around her like water hitting a stone, splitting and curling and dissipating against whatever she was running underneath her skin. She looked bored. Three apex predator dragons were trying to cremate her and the woman looked like she was waiting for her drink order.
The throne room lit up gold the second Guinevere entered, Archaic Draken-Vorah runes igniting along the walls.
"There she is. Showtime," Emma called.
