The Blind Alpha
Yet, tonight, the familiar rhythm of his steps was absent.
Nana, her silver hair pulled back into a tight bun, sighed. With a practiced grace, she navigated the maze of servants, her hand trailing along the cool marble walls. Reaching the palace gardens, she found him. Seated beneath the gnarled branches of an ancient oak, Lucius, his broad frame cloaked in black, was deep in meditation.
"Your Majesty," Nana announced softly, her voice barely a whisper.
Lucius's eyes, a startling pale blue and perpetually unfocused, snapped open. They held an unsettling emptiness, reflecting no light. "Nana," he rumbled, his voice as deep and powerful as the ocean. "The preparations seem in order."
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