Alaric remained seated for a moment longer, unmoved beneath the veil of the white curtains.
Then, he slightly tilted his head—an almost imperceptible gesture.
But it carried weight.
And in response, four seats manifested into reality.
Three on the right, one on the left. Golden-framed. Crimson-cushioned. Ornate yet solemn. Regal, yet not gaudy.
The seats shimmered with quiet mana, as if molded by command alone.
The four of them—Auralyne, Caldrith, and his two subordinates—glanced to either side. At this point, they were no longer surprised by such divine phenomena.
Without needing an explanation, they moved and took their places.
Auralyne sat on the left, close to the curtain where Alaric's presence lingered just beyond. Caldrith took the nearest of the three on the right.
His two companions followed—still wide-eyed, still adjusting to the sanctity of the space they now inhabited.
The moment they sat, both subordinates stiffened.
