Silvery Death

Strength, grace with shoulders of steel like the great wildebeest. Baron Shiznir looks down on his sovereign, the glow of the million candles dance on golden walls. The storm outside of no relevance to his daughter’s débutante ball.
A figure hugs the arch entrance stealthy. Lightning illuminates silver eyes that lock with the baron. His heart stops, his face drained of blood screams; No. NOT NOW.

Written for the Chimera 66 Writing Challenge, click the badge to see other great entries.

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