"Oh, and one more thing," Ethan said, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "Our wedding ceremony will be held soon. I expect you all to prepare for it properly. Long live Anbord!"
...
The festivities had begun to quiet as the true business of the empire resumed.
In the grand Hall of Accord — a soaring chamber of crystal pillars and polished obsidian floors — Ethan sat upon his throne. It was not a chair of gold and jewels, but a living monument, woven from ancient roots, black stone, and veins of red crystal, pulsing in rhythm with the lifeblood of Anbord itself. It was a throne born of creation and blood, a seat that answered only to a true master of both forces. Only Ethan — the hybrid of Vampire and Dwarf, the Creator and Blood Primogenitor — could command such a throne, and through it, the very soul of his kingdom.
