The muffled chaos outside the throne hall was growing louder—angry shouts, muffled cries, and the thud of fists meeting flesh. Mireya's gaze turned to ice.
The guards from the Dragon Blood Tribe were blocking the palace doors, treating the sacred hall as if it were their own den. Elves who approached were shoved back, beaten without mercy, their groans echoing in the corridors.
Mireya's lips curled into something dangerous. "Those arrogant bastards… I'll butcher them for daring to treat my home like this. They'll get no mercy from me."
Elaris stiffened. "Um… Big Sister… what are you planning to do?" she asked, her voice cautious, her eyes searching Mireya's face.
Mireya was silent for a moment, then smiled—not kindly, but with the slow, widening grin of a predator. "What else? I'm going to break them—and their pride—beyond repair."
