Lunaria stalks over to me, nuzzling her head against my leg. “Want to go with me to terrify some Velmarans?” I ask. Her eyes glow with understanding, as eager as I am to don this mask.

Instead of walking down the endless stairs that I absolutely loathe to reach the throne room, I aerstep myself and Lunaria to the small chamber behind the hulking mass of vines and flowers that make up the Thayarian throne. It’s rarely used, as I hate the formality and imposing feel of the space. I hold court days in smaller, less formal receiving chambers. But for this meeting, I’ll make an exception. Lunaria stretches her front legs, then her back legs, before turning to me, eyes bright and menacing. Just before I enter, an idea strikes, and I will the massive space beyond to fill with an eerie mist. I dim the lights as well, then enter the throne room.

The magical adjustments have worked, and the space is ominous. Dark green marble floors line the room, glittering in the dim and misty light. The stone walls are covered in ivy, and several potted plants line the walls. I coax the ivy to slither across the floor and will the metal ivy on the throne to do the same. Admon catches my eye from the chairs that have been set up for a handful of advisors and gives me a twinkling look as I prowl toward the throne, Lunaria at my side. She looks terrifying in this environment, her sleek black coat and golden yellow eyes a warning to any who might cross me. I sit on the cold throne, and she stands at attention by my feet, gazing out at the room.

“Bring them in,” I order, waving my hand in a dismissive fashion. Two guards open the massive, gilded doors that swing outward to reveal the three Velmarans, who walk in and bow deeply. The Prince stands in front, his onyx hair swept back from his face and perfectly messy. I tense at the sight of his familiar eyes, the same green-brown color that haunts my dreams even still. Searching his face for other similarities to the King of Velmara, I realize he’s remarkably handsome, just like his father. He has a strong jawline and full lips, though the effect is alluring rather than off-putting like Mazus. He’s tanned, like most Velmarans, and keeps his dark beard trimmed short.

Wearing a fitted suit of deep red, the gold accents shining in the light with what I suspect is his doing, he cuts a striking figure. Tall, muscular, and confident, I understand why he has a reputation for charming females and males—women and men—alike. His posture is effortless, like he belongs in any room he walks into, and something about his presence… energizes me. I shift in my seat slightly at the feeling. His eyes widen in surprise for only a moment before recovering.