I pressed a kiss to Rosie's lips, then to Lucien's tiny head, breathing in his sweet baby scent and warmth before I turned to leave. My stride steadier than it had been in days. With them here, safe and real, I could feel the pulse of power returning to me. They were my anchor, my reason.
And for them, I'd conquer the world.
By the time I reached the corridor leading to the Council room, that warmth had already begun to drain away. The air was colder here. More sterile, perfumed with fear and politics. My boots echoed sharply against the floor, the sound announcing my approach long before the guards opened the heavy, gilded doors.
Inside, the ministers were already gathered. Their seats in a curve, facing the small stage in the middle, where the prisoner would be.
