When the heavy oak doors finally groaned open to signal the start of the council, Sorza was hauled toward the threshold by a pair of armored guards. His boots dragged on the stone, but his gaze never left Alpheo. The simmering resentment in the man's eyes was thick enough to choke on.
Alpheo, standing loose and relaxed by Jasmine's side, met the boy's venomous stare without a flicker of flinching. There was no grand defiance in his face, only a cold, smooth indifference, seasoned with perhaps a tiny, mocking drop of pity.
Rather than granting Sorza the dignity of an enemy's anger, Alpheo let a small smile touch his lips, and of course made sure to flash it at the fiend.
In response, h snarled, his knuckles whitening, but a deal could hardly be struck with a prisoner spitting curses, so the guards kindly, though firmly, shoved him out into the corridor. The young man's muffled shouting echoed down the hall until the doors thudded shut.
