Elian's POV
*****
The press briefing was brought to an abrupt end. Of course, it was. Gods help them, those reporters didn't capture Seraphyne barging into the throne room and spin that into a new story.
Elian still remembered the absolute terror in Seraphyne's eyes when she barely narrated what happened. Her helplessness hit deep, but now it opened the path to numerous questions.
"How is she?" He asked Lucian when he walked back into the now-empty throne room.
Only the two of them, Sylas and Elowen, remained—the latter's composure popped like a bubble as she paced beneath the dais, tapping a holographic tablet in her hands nervously.
"She's stable." Lucian breathed out, the massive doors closing behind him. He moved in haste, dabbing off sweat from his forehead. "She wasn't able to say anything new. Just kept muttering something about saving Aurora and wanting to stab Amara."
[Yep. Sounds like the sapphic baddie.]
