PREVIEW

... te chamber of the Sanctum’s northern wing—high ceilings laced with starlight glass, the kind that shimmered subtly in rhythm with ambient mana. A slow, drifting glow pulsed from the wall-etched constellations, bathing the room in calm radiance. No guards. No advisors. Just quiet.

And him.

Lucavion stood at the center.

No throne. No dais. No performative distance. Just a simple low table with two seats placed across from one another. Tea already poured. Still warm.

...

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