11 Vhalar 716
The polished stone walls looked as if they had been painted gold under the fire of torchlight, and blood red curtains lined the room, keeping any natural light from penetrating the chamber. This was the Royal throne room, hundreds of years old, weathered and sleepy like the damaged city below. The Ouroboro Knights stood guard, one positioned in front of every heavily veiled window, their helms shadowing keen eyes from view. Through their layers of golden armour and thick, cream fabrics, they appeared like statues, scarcely breathing. The floors of coloured marble were patterned from front to back, and an array of comfortable looking, red leather chairs lined the head of the throne room either side of the King's chair. Nobles and royals alike gathered here often to discussion the status of the realm, and few commoners ever saw beyond the wooden doors. Relaxed on the throne, the auburn haired boy sat in his finery, his legs covered by a thick blanket of black and gold that had been tucked in around his waist. Dark under circles made the young man appear slow and lethargic, his lack of animation doing little to discourage unwanted opinion or concern.
To the king's left, Emerson Sands, the young Empress of Rynmere, sat with a dangerous looking black snake wrapped around her neck and right arm, his red cousin coiled about her left leg, tongue flicked out against her bare ankle as if to taste the air. She wore golden slippers, a while, long sleeved dress with a long slit up either side that stopped at the hips, and a gold gilding, belts, bracelets, and the likes. Soft, yellow hair was slicked back against her head and fashioned into a neat victory rolls, and blue eyes, framed in black, looked straight ahead at the newest arrivals. Emerson did not seem disheartened by the amount of people they had seen this morning, not like the man to the King's right, and her equal, David Krome.
The Emperor was jaded, and sat hiding a yawn behind his raised hand, jet black hair loose and fashioned into long, smooth waves that curled in towards his neck where they touched his collar and shoulders. His attire covered a lot more skin, tight, black pants and a long, embroidered tunic covering a lot more of him than Emerson's dress did in her. He got to his feet as the new group entered and unrolled a scroll to summon forth those who would be seen next.
"Lady Elyna Burhan, and Squire Aeon of Warrick, His royal majesty, Cassander Renault, first of his name, and rightful King of Rynmere, has summoned you this morning to be judged by he and his council to determine whether or not your actions in last session's civil war, were honourable or unjust, and thus reward a fitting penance. Please step forward and address the King in your own time to explain your actions and plead your case." David closed the scroll and gestured to the floor a few feet from their seats before returning to his own.
Cassander's eyes found Aeon first, to make sure it was the king the young man gazed upon and not the Empress of Rynmere. "Lady Elyna," he turned his attention on the dark haired woman. "Step forward, you have much to explain."
They had been stripped of their weapons at the entrance to Andar Castle, had they been foolish enough to show up with any, and escorted by the royal guard to the throne room. Now they stood, ready to be judged, Elyna, charged with murdering a fellow noble in cold blood, and Aeon for the theft of a Volareon. Each would have their chance to speak, but the King did not look to be in a forgiving mood.