Aedion Throne Of Glass Novels & Stories

Lucian responded, as they approached the grand hall, the guards pushed open the door in their wake, and with a short polite nod of the head to Advisor Daniel, they began to discuss. "As you both already know the rule of cardinal has chosen a queen bearing the name Katherina Daventin. She is fairly young, 17 summers old I believe, and she needs to be trained in the way of a queen," Daniel stepped forth towards Lucian indicating that it was his duty. "General Williams, now that you're here the throne will be presented to you until the queen is deemed ready, as you see fit, an official decree will be passed out in the morning. Until then all hail the King!" The advisor spoke with faith not want

She had never had any reason to come to the throne room in her past life, so she couldn’t properly remember anything about it. Finally, they walked into the throne room, and Gwen held her gasp. It was covered in the colours purple and black, giving the room a royal yet eerie essence. The throne was placed at the highest point of the room–fitting for the Supreme Lord of the Enu realm–and was onyx black. There were no towering windows to allow sunlight, but the place was covered with already lit candles. Suddenly, she was pushed from behind, and she fell to her knees. “You’re in the presence of the supreme Lord.” Sandra said. “You should be on your knees.”

Or the sparkling golden stones leading from the path across the lawn to the small pavilion of more white fabric, as thin and delicate as a dandelion's fluff. I only had eyes for the tall, blonde woman on the carved, white throne, her green eyes gleaming, face a cold mask as frozen as her seat, white dress a match to mine clinging to her willowy form. I ignored the lovely Fey woman in the deep green gown standing beside the throne in favor of studying Queen Aoilainn. Her long-fingered hands dangled over the arms of her throne as she sat, back straight, crown gleaming on the silk of her hair, waiting for me to come to her. Mother, Shaylee whispered.

But before he could return back to the cold, brooding Zeus Valente, she pulled him towards her. "A queen? But I don't have a crown." She frowned. He saw those blue eyes, sharp and soft, broken yet determined. He reminisced the way she walked, the way she spoke. "True queen doesn't need a crown. Rather it's the throne that needs her." He looked at her. Astraea was different yet so same. He knew their history will repeat itself. He knew that like always he would end up being wounded and broken. But then again, when was he able to restrain himself? When was he able to force himself to break her spell?

I watched the woman’s eyes go wide as she took in the red, high ceiling of the throne room and the gold cups of the snake-like chandelier that was swinging slowly in the space. “It's beautiful,” The maiden gasped, walking up to the glossy shine of the gold glass walls and scrubbing it back to its shine when her breathing fogged up the pale yellow glass. I followed her tentative steps, touching each gold-lined crevice until we were at the foot of the great dias where my throne was. Small silver skulls lined the frame of the square seat where the diamond had been matted with brown fur.

He scrutinized it for a long time before saying, "I wouldn't have expected any less of a proper lady of the Chapman family. Your embroidery is top-notch." Something occurred to him, and he pulled out a green moonstone pendant from his sleeve. He gave it to me. "My mother gave this to me, saying that it would keep me safe. I've kept it with me all these years while battling our enemies. I'll give it to you now if you don't mind having it." I saw streaks of blood on the pendant and knew that it had been with Gideon through many life-and-death situations. How could I possibly accept it?

Her tears dripped silently into the pile of dishes as her hands worked numbly. --- In the Throne Room Darian lounged back on the iron throne— a massive seat forged from spears and blades taken in conquest. The metal was cold beneath his palm, yet to him, it burned like triumph. His triumph. The place where his father once ruled. Now, it was his. “Now I only need to find those bastards…” he muttered, pouring wine into a goblet, swirling it like a man who believed the world already belonged to him. Before he could drink, a guard stepped in and bowed.

“What throne?” Her counterpart lifted a pale hand. Behind her, the rift widened—showing the forest again, then the lake, and then the throne made of woven silver fire and shadowlight. It pulsed once, as if recognizing Aria through dimensions. “Your throne,” the figure said simply. “The Convergence Seat. The heart of the new realm.” Aria shook her head, stepping back instinctively until her back hit Erevan’s chest. “I don’t want a realm. I don’t want a seat. I don’t want any of this.”

Everyone was waiting for me. Eldric is seated across the Spiritfang—who despite his blindness sits powerfully at the head of the table. Thalos Greymane is seated at my father’s left side. I am to marry his daughter. His wife is seated right beside him, Thalindra Greymane. Eira Wolfshade and Kaelen Throneclaw are the remaining two Elders that complete this table, and it has been this way for the longest time. All chosen by the Moonspirit.

Vertical ribbons of crimson, indigo, and emerald fire lanced through the atmosphere, ionizing the air until it smelled of ozone and burnt sugar. "The thermal shield is gone!" Vane’s voice screamed through the comms, barely audible over the roar of the collapsing tower. "Audrey, the city of Solaria is melting! The glass is turning back into sand!" Inside the Throne Room, the world was falling apart in slow motion. The floor, once a vibrating surface of gold, was now cracking into jagged floes of obsidian. Aurielle was no longer a goddess of light; she was a flickering ghost, her form oscillating between a woman and a silhouette of static.