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[/center][hr][center][b][color=4169E1]Location:[/color][/b] The Crypt - The Palace
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	Lyra's lips thinned slightly at the look of disappointment on Emperor Taj's face. She truly wished she could've been more helpful, but alas, even her perceptive mind could only recall so much detail after so many years had passed by. She nodded her head slightly in response to the Emperor before her thoughts soon began to wander. She mentally reviewed all that had just occurred and the new information she had gained. Murder. Queen Meliscente was murdered. The queen's death had something to do with the Тиме Стоне. And somehow Lyra could feel the remnants of it, more yet it wasn't even the first time she had felt it. Then there was also the бесконачни каменци, which they didn't elaborate much on, that had something to do with all this as well. Lyra's lips pulled down into a small frown as she went over everything, and she absentmindedly fiddled with her necklace while the other still stroked the dragon egg. 

	[i]The question is who or what did this to the queen? What person would so cruelly rip a mother away from her children? What sick, depraved soul would turn children into orphans, who now must also rule a kingdom unprepared?![/I] Lyra thought to herself, with each thought only growing in intensity. She could feel her metaphorical hackles raise at the injustice of it all, and a storm brewed just beyond her blue green eyes. Her hand tightened into a fist around her necklace as righteous fury threatened to boil to the surface. Yet all thoughts on the matter quickly fled as she felt something stir below the hand that was still rested on the dragon egg. [color=4169E1]"It moved!"[/color] she gasped, whirling back around to face the egg fully. She rested both her palms on it, feeling for anymore movement, before pulling them away and instead putting her ear to it. She frowned slightly. She didn't feel anymore movement or hear anything inside it stirring, but she was certain that she hadn't imagined it all. 

	She straightened back up, glancing over at the others. [I]Yes, the coronation. We must get to it.[/I] She knew she had a duty to perform, and yet she felt loathe to abandon the egg. She couldn't abandon it to hatch in a dark, dusty crypt. She couldn't, and [I]she wouldn't.[/I] Her chin rose as a stubborn determination filled her. Her steady gaze turned to Prince Myrus. [color=4169E1]"Prince Myrus, may I be so bold as to grant your permission to care for and protect this dragon egg,"[/color] Lyra boldly addressed the prince. This probably wasn't the time or place to ask this of him, but nevertheless, she was deadest on the endeavor.

	[i]Meanwhile[/i], Lyra's Night Transformer Aurora came out of the woodworks. The black coonhound plowed her way through the crowded streets like a runaway freight train. She may have taken out a person or two in the process, but who's counting. She practically tripped over herself as she exuberantly ran back towards the palace, with her tongue lolling out of her mouth and her giant ears flopping in the wind. Her deep bark echoed off the walls of the palace as she barked excitedly at the sight of Thia and Cuyler. At the last possible minute, she finally turned on her brakes, coming to a screeching halt that nearly plowed over Thia in the process.
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[/center][hr][center][b][color=808080]Location:[/color][/b] Port Witch Coven House --> Port Barge
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	Malekith's gaze turned to Nera with notably less interest than he had shown Fleur. Sure, the other witch was indeed an attractive woman. He would be blind to not see that. However, she had this god-awful tendency to spoil her good looks with that big mouth and big head of hers. Needless to say, he didn't like her, and neither did he trust her. He saw her as a threat to his supremacy, and if it weren't for her close relationship to their Witch Mother, he would have disposed of her a long time ago. For now, he would have to express caution and bide his time. He would have to tolerate her presence. [I]Unfortunately.[/I]

	Glancing back at Fleur, he barely held back a snicker at her comment of the cover name Esren Carlan being hideous. The corner of his lips quirked upward slightly with amusement. As he returned his gaze to Nera, there was a glint to his eyes, a glint that could perhaps only be perceived as spite. Yet it was there and gone so quickly that one could think they had simply imagined it. [I]Petroc Heap.[/I] He committed the cover name to memory. When she stated her cover name next, his lips formed a harsh line, which he promptly tried to smooth out with an arched brow in question. [I]Emmie Heap. We both have Heap as a surname. What the hell is she getting at?![/I] 

	[color=808080]"What, are we brother and sister or something?"[/color] he almost scoffed. [I]Almost.[/I] He didn't wait long for Nera's reply before he turned back to Fleur. He nodded his head in agreement to her empowering words. They were the words of a leader. An easy smirk came to his features before he followed in behind Fleur. Malekith remained close to Fleur but still slightly behind her as they made quick work to the Port Barge. Once there, he courteously offered his arm to help her up the steps and onto the barge, as any noble gentleman would. That's not to say that he was either of those things, but nevertheless, appearances matter.