A Flame in the Shadow
Ember
Theatrics are a language when it comes to Lazriel. The first sign is so blatant I almost laugh. Almost. A servant has left my dressing table rearranged. Not cleaned or organized. It was curated. My jewelry is laid out in a precise spiral, each piece angled deliberately, obsidian ring, velvet choker, silver cuff, onyx pin, ending with a single silver bracelet, upon closer inspection I see that is a serpent eating its own tail, the symbol of the Velvet Coil, placed dead center.
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