The Grand Hall of Concordance—a monument to power—nine thrones of blackstone and silver, each carved with the sigils of Esgard's ruling families.
At the center stood a round table of veined obsidian, where no man sat at its head—for in theory, none ruled over the Council of Nine.
But everyone in Esgard knew that theory was a lie.
The first Chair ruled.
It was clear she did.
The room was low lit by cold magefire, suspended in crystal orbs above each seat.
The light did not flicker. It burned steadily, like the will of those who governed this old city.
Lord Varek Durnhal of the Second Chair arrived first, flanked by his scribe and three iron-masked debt-hunters.
He seated himself without ceremony, drumming thick fingers on the table's edge, impatient.
His presence brought with it the scent of old ledgers and dried blood.
Lady Caldrein Morravel came next—the First Chair.
She walked like shadow and silk, her silver-blonde hair bound in a knot of thorns.
