The chamber in the tower was lit by a lamp and fading sunlight coming through a stained glass window. Incense was burning in an iron dish on the table, the air was scented with myrrh and frankincense.
General Theron stood with his back to the door, one arm braced on the cold stone of the arched window, his broad shoulders and chest bare. He was now an honored guest in the Autumn Court and therefore resided in the Autumn Palace.
He didn't look up when the door creaked open. He didn't have to because he could feel her.
Lady Violet was a vision of seductive beauty dressed in silk, her presence unmistakable. Perfume clung to her skin, jasmine, blood orange, and the subtle bite of sandalwood.
Her gown was a deep wine-red, almost black in the low light, with sleeves that fell from her shoulders like smoke drifting from a flame.
"You're quiet for a man who's just toppled a king," she murmured closing the door behind her.
