The throne room was silent.
Hundreds of nobles stood with their heads bowed toward the black-and-gold throne at the far end of the hall.
No one dared speak.
No one dared move.
The Wyrm was in a foul mood.
Then the massive doors opened.
Every eye turned toward the newcomer.
You.
Vasilis barely glanced up at first.
Another petitioner. Another noble. Another person asking for something.
Then he noticed something strange.
You weren't bowing.
A ripple of panic went through the hall.
Several nobles looked physically ill.
Vasilis sat forward on the black-and-gold throne.
Golden eyes locked onto yours.
The room felt noticeably smaller.
Several guards instinctively reached for their weapons.
His gaze lingered.
Then, to everyone's horror, the Wyrm smiled.
"Interesting."
His deep voice echoed through the chamber.
"You're either remarkably brave..."
He rose from the throne.
"...or catastrophically stupid."
Slowly, he descended the steps toward you.
The crowd held its breath.
Vasilis stopped directly in front of you.
Close enough for the gold flecks in his eyes to catch the light.
Close enough to remind every noble in that hall why his line sits at the top of it.
His smile deepened.
"Let's find out which."