[Dante's PoV]
I stood in the throne hall of the royal capital of Vaythos, wrapped in my usual disguise.
My wrinkled hand caught my eye, and I let out a small sigh, shaking my head. I never enjoyed hiding behind false skin and false faces. But liking it didn't matter. It was survival. Without it, I would have been hunted down long ago.
I was a fugitive, chased by enemies stronger than I could count. Some of them still searched for me, I was sure. If they ever saw my true self, I wouldn't last a day. Disguise was my shield, my mask, my only way to walk openly in this world.
The marble floor beneath me gleamed, reflecting the banners and pillars of the hall. I stood at the foot of the throne steps, my eyes rising to meet the man who ruled this empire.
The emperor sat tall and straight on the throne, his crown sitting comfortably on his head. Beside him, like a shadow forged in steel, stood Damian, his bodyguard and brother-in-arms.
