Knox wore a crown that looked like bones. His eyes were turbulent, as if a hurricane played in his ocean depths. He had on armor, like honest-to-God armor that was covered in ravens. He turned away from me, staring at the few men inside the room. He took a step forward, and the armor clinked. I peered down, looking at the metal that covered his boots and the knight spurs that were attached to his heels as if he’d just returned from riding a warhorse. His mantle was black, and yet it shimmered with his movement. Everything about the man screamed God of War.
