Axel stepped into the library, and the room seized his attention immediately.
Anger still simmered in him, a restless heat he could not fully contain, but even that could not stop his breath from hitching at the sight before him.
The library was a command, a presence, a space that refused to be ignored. Every corner, every surface, spoke of intention and power.
The ceilings soared above, carved with intricate moldings that caught the morning sunlight streaming through arched windows.
Each ray fractured across crystal chandeliers, scattering light like shards of frozen fire, reflecting and refracting against polished marble floors.
The stone gleamed with a muted brilliance, softening the shapes of the room while amplifying its grandeur.
Dark wooden spiral staircases wound upward, each brass railing gleaming as if newly polished, leading to balconies lined with books that seemed to stretch into eternity.
