"The Trade Council of the Obsidian Summit is now officially in session," Draven announced, his voice a smooth, practiced baritone that echoed off the obsidian walls.
Maribel walked in again, completely unfazed, dressed in something even more sophisticated than the outfit I had ruined. The moment she stepped in, attention shifted to her. Conversations continued, but eyes kept drifting in her direction.
She carried herself with quiet confidence, moving as though she owned the room. Without hesitation, she took a seat directly behind Kaelion.
Not beside him, behind him.
The discussions went on, but her presence changed the atmosphere, making it impossible to ignore her.
"We are here to ensure the prosperity of our borders. The South provides the grain that keeps the North from starvation
