Garius arrived at the grand doors of the throne hall.
Alf bowed respectfully, and the staff followed suit.
"Your Majesty," Alf said, bowing deeply with a warm, proud smile.
Garius returned the smile, a rare softness in his eyes reserved only for those who had stood by him since the beginning. Alf straightened and, with a practiced gesture, pushed open the massive double doors.
The heavy panels swung inward with a low, resonant hum, revealing the transformed throne hall in all its splendor.
Inside, everyone rose in silence as Garius entered.
Soft harps blended with low mana horns as the music swelled, accompanying his steady procession toward the throne.
Garius walked slowly, his golden mantle catching the light, his boots clicking softly on the floor.
His children followed in a neat line: Marcellus and Cedric flanking the sides, Javier in the middle, Aelius and Athine holding hands, and Heres bringing up the rear.
