~ STARK ~
My blood ran cold.
The Audience Chamber was full of petitioners, noblemen and commoners alike whose concerns were of high enough regard to the Kingdom to be heard by the King himself.
David usually held audiences every month, though he'd only held one so far during the Rite. It was past time, and I'd thought his recent re-commitment to the act a good thing—a sign that he was returning to a place of balance in his mind.
But the massive, echoing room was nearly silent, as if a dark cloud hung over it. Everyone, even the Court, looked around nervously.
An instinctive scan of the space, measuring for threats gave me no help… until I turned my attention to where David sat—rather, sprawled—on the throne.
His face was dark and sinister, jaw tight and teeth clearly clenched. He half-lay back in the throne, leaning his temple on one fist, lip curling towards a sneer.
