King Rouben Yachvili's rage was a palpable force, a cold, silent inferno that seemed to suck the very warmth from his opulent war room. The evidence lay spread across the polished oak table, a damning testament to betrayal: vials of insidious poison, magically sealed testimonies, and a detailed plan for treason that implicated the very man who had saved his daughter.
Noah. The quiet, brilliant alchemist. The hero of the court.
A viper.
"He dared," King Rouben Yachvili whispered, his voice dangerously low, the words like chips of ice. "In my court. Under my roof. He dared to conspire against the crown."
Lady Ondine Bellerose stood before him, her expression a perfect mask of grave sorrow and unwavering loyalty. "I could not believe it myself, Your Majesty," she murmured, her dark eyes filled with feigned anguish. "To think such treachery festered so close to the heart of our kingdom… it is a chilling betrayal."
