One man stood before a petrified door in a huge hall with golden walls. On the door were the carved images of ten Alchemists in their robes that covered their faces and behind each of them were the royal apostles and a bright sun with carved rays above it all.
"Behind that door are the Alchemists, the backbones of the golden castle and the royal apostles. But… It doesn't feel like my throne is there." He muttered to himself.
"A king without a throne. Odd but has a nice ring to it." Isolde's sharp yet sweet voice rang from behind.
Godfrey turned and raised an eyebrow at the young lady sitting with one leg crossed over another on her throne. She leaned on one hand. That same nonchalant pose with those intimidating draconic eyes that seemed to burn with golden flames right from a thin dark source which was the pupils.
"If I get all this right, all your knights are lords of their own right, that's why we get our throne chambers." She muttered.
