The private meeting room in the Imperial Palace was a study in understated opulence—rich mahogany paneling, burgundy velvet drapes, and the subtle aura of power that came with centuries of political decisions. Reika trailed silently behind me, her presence as sharp and composed as ever, though I caught the slight tension in her posture that indicated her readiness for anything.
My eyes settled on the woman seated across from the polished conference table, and I inclined my head in a respectful bow.
"I greet the Chancellor of the Slatemark Empire, Lady Amelia."
Amelia von Vexis was a woman who could command a room with nothing more than the quiet assurance in her amber eyes. Her violet hair, a shade so striking it seemed almost otherworldly, cascaded down her back in effortless waves. Though she remained seated, her presence alone made the air feel heavier, charged with the authority of someone who held the Empire's fate in her hands.
