He arrived without ceremony. No announcement. No dramatic entrance. Just the quiet shift in the air that came when someone important stepped into a room and everyone else instinctively adjusted their posture. I knew he had arrived before I saw him. The servants moved differently—faster, sharper. Guards straightened. Voices lowered. The house inhaled and held its breath. I stayed where I was supposed to be. Invisible. From the balcony above the main hall, I watched him enter. He was taller than I expected. Broad-shouldered, dressed simply, the kind of simplicity that was intentional, expensive, untouchable. His face was carved with restraint rather than cruelty, his expression unreadable in a way that suggested practice, not nature. This was not a man who learned power by shouting. This was a man who learned it by watching. His eyes swept the hall once, quick and assessing, noting exits, distances, people. When they passed over me, they did not linger. Good. I
Last Updated : 2025-12-25 Read more