A figure clad in black stepped through the half-light, his hood lifted just enough to reveal a pair of obsidian eyes behind a mask. He closed the door and just stood there, his gaze assessing the scene before him.
Lara stood at the edge of the bed, the faint shimmer of her gauze gown turning her into something half divine, half spectral. The air itself seemed to hold its breath around her.
What the heck are you waiting for? Come behead this woman at this instant! King Roman's muffled protests broke the stillness. His right wrist jerked against the bindings, his crown long since fallen to the marble with a muted chime — the sound of power losing its place. Lara regarded him quietly, her expression unreadable. "Is this the dominion you wanted, my king?" she asked, her voice low, almost affectionate. "To conquer what you never cared to understand?"
His glare burned with fury and disbelief — a man who had ruled armies yet found himself helpless before a single woman.
