The Weight of Secrets
Leon's smile deepened—quiet, unreadable, carrying the promise of something the man wouldn't enjoy.
"I do," Leon murmured, voice silky and edged with an unsettling calm, "if you agree to one thing."
The finance minister froze.
For a moment he simply stared, his lips trembling, breath shivering out of him in short, panicked puffs. His knees dug into the stone floor, and his fingers clawed at his own robes as if fabric could shield him from what he felt radiating from the young king.
Leon let the silence stretch.
He wanted the man to feel it—not fear of death, but fear of expectation. Fear of what Leon might demand. Fear of what he might reveal.
Finally, the minister swallowed hard.
"W-What… what is it, Your Majesty?"
His voice cracked like someone had stepped on it.
Leon didn't rush.
He leaned one shoulder against the iron bars, letting the dim torchlight fall across his features. His expression softened into something dangerously pleasant.
