Damon exhaled, his arms crossed as he watched Riven take in the sight before him. "Not bad, huh?"
"Better than I expected," Riven admitted, his voice quieter than usual. He turned his head slightly. "How much of it is finished?"
"The main structure is solid," Mal answered, stepping beside him. "The throne room, the war chamber, and the private quarters are complete. Most of the lower halls and outer defenses are still being reinforced."
Aria tilted her head. "Would you like to see inside, my king?"
Riven said nothing, but he stepped forward. The answer was clear.
The massive obsidian doors swung open at a mere gesture from Mal, revealing a grand entry hall lined with towering columns, their surfaces etched with delicate abyssal veins that pulsed faintly in the dim torchlight. The ceiling arched high above them and the floor was polished blackstone, smooth as a mirror, reflecting the flickering violet glow of enchanted lanterns.
