The grand hall was overly chaotic when Darius stepped in for the impromptu meeting that the council of elders had called him for. His hands were balled into fists, hidden behind his royal regalia, and his face was devoid of any possible reaction or emotion as he walked forward to the front of the hall where his decorated throne stood tall.
He tried to walk up to the throne but just when he arrived at about three feet away from it, an elder, Thorne, approached him, standing in his way as he spat;
"Is that necessary?"
Darius cocked his eyebrows at him. "Is what necessary?"
"Do you need to make a spectacle of walking up the throne right now?"
He froze. "And where am I supposed to walk up to if not the throne? On whose chair am I to sit if not the one I use all the time?"
