She let the silence stretch, not as a performance but as a courtesy. The hall needed time to breathe around what she had already said. The name Sebastian Nekros still echoed in the minds of those present like a struck bell, its resonance not yet faded. To layer another revelation atop it without pause would've been wasteful.
When she finally spoke, her voice was softer.
"There is," she said, "a story most of you think you know."
The words drifted through the chamber and settled. People straightened in their seats. Some leaned forward unconsciously. Stories, in that hall, were rarely entertainment. They were history sharpened into lesson.
"It concerns," Belle continued, "the day I lost my sight."
