The chamber felt alive, almost breathing, the candlelight flickering over walls polished to a faint, reflective sheen. Each shadow seemed to stretch and twist, as though the room itself anticipated what was to come.
Aiden's armor glinted dully in the light, the gold flecks in his eyes catching every flicker, casting an almost imperceptible aura of heat and intent around him. He moved forward with slow deliberation, each step measured, yet carrying the weight of unspoken command.
Before him, Lady countess remained poised, a statue of restrained authority. Her fingers twitched almost imperceptibly at her side, betraying her inner storm—a mixture of curiosity, fear, and the nascent thrill of power finally within her grasp.
Aiden noted the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the way her eyes shifted when she thought no one was watching. She was anchored, yes, but only in his presence; bold action had started here, now, in his orbit.
