210
~Fridolf's POV
I watched them go, Damon, Kael, Rowan, their shoulders tight, their faces carved by argument. Damon's voice had the last word: release Belinda, yes, but only after they finished the morning meeting. He was still angry. That did not matter.
I bowed as they left, low and proper. They accepted the bow like men who take what's handed to them and count it nothing. I let the bow be a lie they could believe. When the doors closed behind them, I let out a soft laugh, more sound than breath.
"They dare accept my bows," I said to the empty room, the words tasting of iron and honey. I scoffed, loud enough for the walls to catch it. "They think they have the last move. They do not."
Their agreement had been the thing I needed. I had moved the pieces while they argued, and that was always how it had to be. Plans do not wait for speeches.
I walked quickly to Belinda's door. My hand on the knob felt steady. I pushed it open without knocking.
