I got to his door but was redirected to the throne room

The throne room was darker than usual, lit only by scattered torches that cast flickering shadows across the obsidian walls. Veyran sat upon his throne—a massive structure carved from blackened bone and dark crystal—looking every inch the king he claimed to be.

Regal, powerful and cold.

My footsteps echoed as I approached, each step measured and slow. I'd worn the black and silver gown he preferred, pulled my hair back to expose my ...