Aurelion, The Solar Throne Hall. White stone caught the afternoon light and bent it inward, refracting gold along the vaulted ribs of the Solar Throne Hall. Banners of the Valerian Dominion hung unmoving, embroidered with sigils of conquest rather than prayer. They burned no incense or sang hymns in this solemn hall.
The Empire did not beg or serve its gods like slaves.
For man becometh God.
Albrech Valerius, filled with elegant charm, crossed the marble floor alone, his boots clicking with a precise marching pace. His white and gold diplomatic attire remained unblemished despite weeks of travel. He knelt only when reaching the correct distance, with a straight spine and level chin; he gave worship to his Emperor.
Behind him, armour rang sharply.
Caelith Ignivar halted one pace short of the kneeling envoy, crimson-gold eyes fixed forward, jaw tight enough to ache. Her gauntleted hand rested on the pommel of her sword as if the steel itself were restraining her.
