"How am I going too far?" Sigmund retorted, meeting her gaze without flinching. His pride had been pricked, and he was in no mood to retreat. "You spoke first. If you can mock others, you should be prepared to hear the truth in return."
For a moment, the air between them grew tense and sharp, like drawn blades crossing. Neither was willing to back down, and the clash of words quickly turned into an unspoken feud.
Nearby, Zora had already taken a seat beside Prince Kael.
After several days without proper rest, he had finally closed his eyes, his breathing steady and calm. His usually sharp aura had softened, and for the first time in days, he looked genuinely at ease.
Guinvere's gaze flicked toward Zora from time to time. There was a faint, almost imperceptible challenge hidden in her eyes, as if she were silently reminding her that the number and "quality" of people drawn to her far exceeded those around Zora.
