[Emperor Cassius's POV—Throne Hall—Nightfall]
The wine swirled lazily in my goblet—deep crimson, like the blood that had bought this peace. I leaned back on the throne, one arm draped over its lion-carved rest. The hall was quiet… too quiet. Then came footsteps—two sets. One steady, disciplined. The other, insolent.
Ravick entered first, bowing low. Behind him trailed Rey, with that infuriating smirk plastered across his face.
"Greetings, Your Majesty," Rey drawled, dipping into a bow that mocked more than it respected. "How may this humble servant serve you tonight?"
"Spare me the theatrics," I cut him off. My voice slid across the hall like winter. "Answer me plainly, Rey. Did Osric—by any chance—hurt my daughter during the hunting competition?"
Rey's smile sharpened. "And why not ask the princess herself, Emperor? She might tell you." His tone was a challenge wrapped in mock concern.
