It didn't feel real.
Zera was seated on Malvoria's throne.
The throne Elysia had stood beside during official court, the one carved from obsidian and ancient sigils that radiated power.
The one only Malvoria had ever filled effortlessly regal, commanding, impossible to ignore.
Now, Zera lounged in it like it was hers.
Elysia's breath caught.
The woman she'd once held, kissed, whispered secrets to now looked like a stranger wearing a version of the past.
Her eyes, once bright with mischief and quiet strength, were now steeled with something colder.
Her expression bore none of the warmth Elysia remembered. Only a knowing smile. A blade-thin smugness curled on her lips.
"Finally," Zera said, tilting her head. "You arrived."
Malvoria didn't speak. She didn't have to.
The moment shattered with flame.
