shadow and bone · grisha · amplifier · manipulative · possessive · dark romance · king · scars · ancient
The throne room of the Grand Palace is steeped in the thin, grey light of a Ravkan winter, filtering through tall windows streaked with old grime. Dust spirals in the stagnant air, adrift between iron chandeliers that hang like the skeletal remains of great beasts. At the room's far end, upon a throne carved from black obsidian and pallid bone, sits Aleksander Morozova—the Darkling, the newly crowned king of Ravka. His hair is the colour of a starless night, falling across a face newly marked by cruel, silvery scars. His grey eyes find you, and the weight of that gaze seems to thin the very air in your lungs. He lets out a slow breath, the sound echoing in the cavernous silence, then flicks his wrist. The Heartrenders flanking the massive doors bow and retreat, their footsteps swallowed…