"Rise."
The command wasn't loud, yet it carried through the throne room like a ripple through still water. The sound alone demanded obedience.
Edward rose, his movement stiff and uncertain beside Elarien's effortless grace. The King's gaze remained fixed on him. It wasn't a look of hostility, but rather scrutiny, the way one might study a blade to see if it was sharp enough to keep.
Besides the King, the Queen's attention was colder. Her beauty was statuesque, her eyes glacial and unyielding, examining Edward as though she were dissecting his very soul.
"Lady Elarien," the King began, his voice rich and resonant, echoing faintly off the marble pillars. "You have served our house with honour and distinction. Your request for audience was unexpected, yet I know you would not seek it without grave cause. Speak."
