Silence. Heavy and suffocating.
It hung over the tent like a velvet curtain. Gone was the cordial air, the wine-slicked words, the polite exchange of diplomacy. The prince who had just moments ago worn the mask of a generous host now sat still and unmoving—his posture rigid, one hand pressed to his lips, eyes fixed on the boy before him with an intensity that could have turned bone to dust if he so desired.
The jovial glint in Alpheo's gaze had vanished.
Across from him, Thalien tried to appear unbothered. His back remained straight, his breathing even, his expression composed. But a faint twitch in his fingers betrayed him—a silent confession of nerves beneath the surface.
So it was him, Alpheo thought coldly, the realization blooming like frost behind his eyes.The Prince of Habadia
The one he'd hoped not to meet, not yet, not here, not as an enemy , not so soon .
Looks like I've had an enemy sitting across from me for far longer than I realized.
