Chapter 48
Elara’s POV
The council chamber was dressed in gold and shadows.
Tapestries bearing Lucien’s crest—onyx crowned by flame—hung from the walls, while the long table was spread with maps, scrolls, and goblets of wine. Generals sat stiff-backed, ministers murmured like crows, and servants moved along the edges like whispers.
At the far end of the hall, King Idran of Nareth reclined on his chair as though it were a throne, his smile sharp and gleaming, his every gesture polished arrogance.
And beside him, Lucien sat in silence, his presence heavy enough to silence an army.
I felt all eyes on me as I entered. The chamber quieted.
“She comes,” Idran said smoothly, rising as though to greet me, though the gesture reeked of performance. His eyes, however, betrayed his hunger—the h
