The silence that followed Soren's departure felt heavier than it had any right to be.
I stood there, acutely aware of Aldric's presence across the room, this tired yet patient man who looked at me like I was a particularly complicated problem he'd been assigned to solve against his will.
His posture was rigid, professional, but his eyes carried the weight of someone who'd spent far too many sleepless nights protecting an empire from economic threats both foreign and domestic.
And now I was a new threat.
How delightful.
Bjorn, the traitor, had settled himself near my feet as though he'd decided this was where he belonged now. His massive head rested on his paws, tail occasionally thumping against the floor, completely oblivious to, or perhaps deliberately ignoring, the tension crackling between his emperor's secretary and his emperor's... what was I, exactly? Bride? Weapon? Both?
