"Words can be tools," Alice murmured. "Or weapons."
"Exactly."
Silence followed—not the uncomfortable kind, but the sort that pressed gently against the walls, urging thought rather than speech.
The heavy curtains stirred faintly as a draft slipped through the room. Alice remained standing near her desk, arms folded, eyes sharp with contemplation.
After a few moments, I spoke again.
"There's an Eastern proverb," I said calmly. "'Seeing once is better than hearing a hundred times.' Rather than continuing with abstract explanations… why not witness it directly?"
Alice raised an eyebrow.
"Witness it how?"
I turned slightly and gestured toward the sofa.
"Don't we already have an excellent teaching aid here?"
Velra, who had been lounging with barely concealed impatience, stiffened.
"…You're not serious," she said, pointing at herself. "Me?"
Yes.
You.
A high-ranking vampire noble.
Someone born into power, accustomed to dominance being acknowledged without question.
