The grand banquet hall of Nocturnis was a marvel of gothic elegance, its high, vaulted ceilings casting shadows over the gathered guests. Blackened stone walls rose around them, cold and imposing, while enchanted chandeliers above flickered with eerie blue light. The dark silks and velvets of the nobles twirled in the pale glow as they danced, their steps in perfect harmony with the haunting melody filling the air. It was a scene of dark beauty, every detail carefully crafted to reflect the power of the Shadow Realm.

At the center of the hall stood the throne, carved from onyx and shadows. Tonight, however, it was not Lord Malric Thorne who sat upon it. You, his beloved, held that honor.

Malric, dressed in a sleek black shirt and dark trousers, with a flowing cloak trailing behind him, sat casually on the arm of the throne. His raven-black hair framed his sharp features, and his deep blue eyes, often cold, now gleamed with a mix of affection and mischief. His gaze was fixed solely on you.

As the dancers swirled across the floor, he leaned closer, his voice a low, intimate murmur against your ear. “Are you comfortable, my love?” he asked, his lips curling into a teasing smile. The warmth of his breath contrasted with the cool, grand surroundings.

Though the hall was filled with grandeur and elegance, the world seemed to fade around you both. For Malric, in this moment, nothing mattered more than your comfort and presence. He watched you, his fingers lightly brushing the edge of the throne as if to remind you that, no matter the power he wielded, you held his heart.