Chapter 36: ROYAL AUDIENCE
The stench of charred flesh and void residue still clung to Reed’s nostrils as he ascended the palace steps. Four guards flanked him—not as escorts but as containment. Their enchanted armor hummed with suppression magic, ready to activate should he attempt anything resembling what had happened in the arena.
Reed’s fingers still tingled with the memory of void energy coursing through them. The sensation had been... intoxicating. Terrifying. Familiar.
The palace of Azuryn rose before him like a monument to excess, ivory spires twisting upward as if reaching to pierce the heavens themselves. Crystalline windows caught the fading sunlight, fracturing it into prismatic patterns that danced across the polished marble steps. Beauty meant to intimidate.
"Move," grunted the lead guard, prodding Reed forward with the blunt end of a spear. The weapon’s tip glowed with sigils that could tear a man’s soul from his body—or whatever remained of Reed’s.
Massive doors carved with the history of Azuryn’s nine royal families swung open silently before them. Reed committed every detail to memory: fourteen guards positioned strategically throughout the entrance hall, three visible archers in the upper galleries, and at least seven concealed magical wards that made his skin prickle as he passed through them.
No sign of Shia. They’d separated them immediately after the Tournament’s chaotic conclusion.
"Where is my Hero?" Reed demanded, his voice echoing in the cavernous hall.
The guards remained silent, marching him past courtiers who whispered behind jeweled fans and nobles whose hands reflexively moved to their weapons. Reed caught fragments of their hushed conversations.
"—the one who channeled the void—" "—defied Lord Thorn himself—" "—abomination or savior—"
They led him through a series of increasingly opulent chambers until they reached an antechamber decorated with tapestries depicting the founding of the kingdom. The room was empty save for a single figure—a slender man dressed in simple black robes, his fingers adorned with rings bearing the insignia of House Lumere, the royal archivists.
"Lord Reed," the man bowed slightly. "I am Casimir, Royal Chamberlain. Before you meet His Majesty, I must remind you of protocol. You will speak only when addressed directly. You will maintain a respectful distance of three paces minimum. You will—"