Bestu stands in front of a wide, gold-rimmed mirror with his back to me, its impressive height clearly customized for his own grand stature, staring at his reflection in silence.
“Your majesty,” I say, bowing in acknowledgment even though I know he heard me come in. I’m positive he even heard my conversation with his sister.
I stand there for a few more seconds before he turns to face me.
“Matthiel,” he begins, the natural depth of his voice booming throughout the wide room. “I’ve been expecting you. Please, sit,” he gestures to the array of plush golden seaters.
The last thing my twitchy legs feel like doing right now is being quiet and sitting down for only God knows how long, but I suppose it’s for the best.