"Septimius," Pothinus purred, his voice like venom laced with honey. "So nice of you to join us."
There was no fear in his eyes at all despite being alone.
Nathan's eyes scanned the man seated regally upon the gilded throne, noting every detail with quiet calculation.
The man's appearance matched the description Nathan had memorized with cold precision—a face etched with pride and treachery, crowned with ambition and arrogance. There was no mistaking him.
"You must be Pothinus," Nathan said at last, his voice steeped in disdain, a faint scoff escaping his lips as he stood tall, cloaked in steel and fury.
Pothinus's brow furrowed, displeasure flickering across his aged features like a shadow disturbed by torchlight.
"You… are not what I expected," he murmured, narrowing his eyes in cautious scrutiny.
