The plane’s doors hissed open, and Zander Dominic descended first, the morning light catching on the steel of his cufflinks. Behind him, his entourage of sharply dressed men followed in perfect formation, their polished shoes striking the tarmac with military precision. Their presence wasn’t just an escort; it was a declaration.
The air itself seemed charged, perfumed with the intoxicating fragrance of countless blossoms. The Empire of Flowers lived up to its name; every breath carried sweetness, masking the thrum of politics that pulsed beneath the surface.
At the base of the steps stood Granchid, the empire’s most trusted advisor, his reputation for wisdom whispered with respect far beyond these borders. His eyes lingered on Zander with curiosity, but also with a quiet calculation, as
