The air in the Royal Armory was thick with the scent of ozone and the heavy metallic clang of plate hitting the leather. King Valerius stood before the mirror, his fingers, once trembling and weak, now steady as he buckled the Sun-Iron bracers over his scarred forearms. The heavy oak doors creaked open, and the scent of lilies and aromatic oils flooded the room, thick enough to choke.
Seraphina moved like a predator through the shadows, her eyes locked on the King's back. She didn't speak; instead, she let the silk robe she was wearing slide slowly from her shoulders. It pooled at her feet in a spill of violet, leaving her naked and bathed in the shimmering oils designed to trigger the "Forced Hunger" in Valerius's blood. Valerius stiffened; he felt the mark on his neck thrum with a treac
