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Illha could suddenly feel the piercing gaze fixated upon her form, measuring her worth, her use amongst many other things. The way she spoke and poised herself was enough to distinguish herself from an escaped slave. Saying nothing as she listened, an elegant and flawless hand revealed itself beneath her silk cloak, absently tapping on her throne as she pondered on what was said.
‘Serale… Illha of the House Melervs… and welcome to Dar Havark.’
‘… I have long not dealt with the Houses for quite some time... as you can see I have been quite… busy… please if you will… enlighten me…’
Her tones were commanding, icey, one that was expected to be obeyed at all costs. She was powerful no doubt, her name having reached those of the Houses spoke of her influence. But now she was a mother, and leader of the Brotherhood until her husband’s return.
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Shadow Lord Archmage of the Nether Wielder of the Shadow Blade
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