There was a palpable tension in the chamber. The flicker of enchanted lanterns cast long, shifting shadows across the polished wooden walls, and the silence was heavy—almost suffocating—as every eye in the room turned to Sylvester Florence.
He sat with the composure of a man who knew the weight his words carried. Slowly, his golden eyes swept the council before he spoke.
"Ignoring, for the moment, the fact that Her Majesty has brought back our people from the human continent," Sylvester began, his tone deliberate and measured, "have you all taken notice… that she has also brought outsiders into our midst? Humans… and even a few demihumans?"
The words dropped into the room like stones in a still pond. A faint murmur of discontent rippled among the elders.
