Valeris did not even blink.
She smiled.
"How clumsy," she said lightly. "And here I thought Mimir had outgrown such... childish methods."
Across the table, the merchant prince's hand twitched.
Asher saw it.And memorized it.
The first enemy to die will be you, he thought coldly.
Valeris rose from her seat, the Council still half-frozen in confusion.
"I will be generous this once," she said, her voice sharp and musical. "The next attempt will not end with a spilled goblet."
She turned, skirts whispering like silk knives over the marble, and Asher moved with her.
Behind them, silence reigned — but fury and fear curdled the air like sour milk.
Private Chambers — That Night
"You were right," Valeris said later, stripping off her gloves with slow, deliberate movements. "They struck faster than I thought."
Asher cleaned his sword meticulously, not from blood, but as a ritual — a silent promise.
"They're desperate," he said. "Desperation makes men clumsy."
