In the quiet solitude of his bedroom, sunlight streamed through the stained-glass window, bouncing off pristine white marble walls. Glen Lancaster stood tall before an ornate, full-length mirror framed in intricately carved wood, an undeniable masterpiece, even from a distance. Though it was merely a guest room with standard furnishings, Viscount Harrington had seemingly replaced every piece just for him.
As always, after waking, his butler assisted him in freshening up before laying out the emperor's attire for the day. Once everything was prepared, the butler began dressing him.
First, the man slid a pale ivory undershirt over his shoulders, made of rare Arcanian silk harvested only once a year. The fabric was so soft it felt like a cloud wrapping around his skin. Over that, he donned a jet-black vest threaded with gold embroidery, each stitch painstakingly handcrafted into intricate, mesmerizing patterns.
