The throne room doors were heavier than Damon remembered. Or maybe it was just the weight of what he was about to do that made them feel that way. He pushed through them anyway, his jaw set, his hands clenched at his sides.The room stretched out before him, massive and imposing as always. The windows that let in streams of golden afternoon light. And there, at the far end, seated on her throne like she'd been born to it, was his mother.She was reading something… a scroll, maybe a report, her posture relaxed but somehow still commanding. She didn't look up when he entered, didn't acknowledge his presence at all. Just kept reading, one hand holding the parchment while the other rested elegantly on the arm of her throne.Damon walked forward, his boots echoing against the marble floor. Each step felt deliberate, purposeful. He didn't stop until he was standing at the base of the dais, looking up at her.Still, she didn't look up."Mother," he said, his voice controlled but firm."Damon
Last Updated : 2026-01-18 Read more