Damian stood before the enormous wall mirror in his chambers, staring at his reflection while adjusting the collar of his black and purple ceremonial robes. The garments had been prepared specifically for the execution, with intricate violet patterns running across the black fabric and several subtle symbols of the Sin of Lust embroidered along the edges.
His long black hair had been carefully arranged for the occasion, falling neatly around his shoulders instead of its usual unruly appearance. He ran his fingers through a loose section near his temple and adjusted it before staring at himself for several more seconds. He looked every bit like a ruler preparing to stand before millions of witnesses, yet there was a tension in his eyes that refused to disappear.
