Since the throne room had been converted into an office, the only place in the castle suitable for state affairs was the Commander’s war room. Once again, Valek stood stiffly in his dress uniform on the Commander’s right side, while I waited behind them.
My apprehension turned to awe as I felt the waves of nervous energy pulsing from the high-ranking officials and advisers selected to be a part of the ceremony. When the delegation was announced and invited to enter, I moved to get a better view.
The Sitians floated into the room. Their long, brightly colored, exotic robes draped to the floor, covering their feet. Wearing animal masks trimmed with bright plumes of feathers and fur, they stopped before the Commander and fanned out into a V-shape.
Their leader, wearing a hawk’s face, spoke in formal tones. “We bring you greetings and salutations from your southern neighbors. We hope this meeting will bring our two lands closer together. To show our commitment to this endeavor, we have come prepared to reveal ourselves to you.” The speaker and the four companions removed their masks in one rehearsed movement.
I blinked several times in astonishment, hoping that during the seconds of darkness everything would be set right. Unfortunately, my world had just mutated from bad to wretched. Valek glanced at me with a resigned look as if he, too, couldn’t believe this new turn of events.
The Sitian leader was Irys. A master-level magician stood a mere three feet before Commander Ambrose.
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