CHAPTER THREE
Adamar’s footsteps echoed throughout the hallway as he walked toward the throne room. His freshly-polished boots clacked loudly against the stone floor, reminding him of a time long ago. A time when he had run through this very hallway as a boy. The walls were covered with beautiful tapestries and massive murals. His father certainly had good taste. Before Adamar had the templar kill him, anyway.
His two bodyguards followed behind him, flanked on either side. They were as silent as shadows. Other than the occasional ruffle of their robes, he would never have assumed they were there. As he approached the large doors that led to the throne room, the soldiers standing nearby hustled to open the doors for him. They saluted as he passed.
The chamber was crowded with the nobles
