The second floor mezzanine of the Myriad-Sovereign Luxury Pavilion smelled of burning sandalwood and cold arrogance.
Polished obsidian floor tiles mirrored shimmering crystal showcases filled with silk battle-vestments, dragon-scale belts, and gold-trimmed tiaras.
At the center appraisal counter, two burly guards in crimson iron armor pinned a seventeen-year-old girl’s wrists to the counter.
She wore the coarse gray linen robe of an apprentice appraiser.
Her slender fingers were pale, trembling against the cold stone, but her tear-filled eyes refused to look down.
Above her stood Madam Diao, the boutique floor manager.
Madam Diao was draped in dyed fox fur, her face caked with white pearl powder that cracked as she sneered.
In her right hand, she gripped a three-foot-long cold-iron disciplinary ruler humming with bone-shattering runes.
