Demian fell silent.
For a moment only a moment doubt flickered in his eyes. Not because of threats. Not because of the price. But because of the image of a woman standing on a green hillside, breathing freely without him.
And for the first time that night, Demian said nothing.
The great hall of Morvex Castle sank into a suffocating silence.
The torches along the walls burned with a dull yellow flame, crackling softly, as though they too were witnessing the tension thickening in the air. The shadows of the three men Demian, Kaiser, and Vedseel stretched long and overlapping across the marble floor, like destinies entwined yet refusing to merge.
Vedseel slowly turned his staff, its tip tapping against the stone floor tok… tok… the sound deliberately unhurried. His face still carried a faint smile, the smile of a sorcerer who had lived too long among secrets and regrets.
