“I cannot believe a criminal is standing in my wife’s chambers while her knight guards the door just outside,” Vlad said, his expression as cold and impassive as a carved statue. His sharp gaze fell on Johanna as if pronouncing a judgment. Johanna kept her head bowed, her silence a tacit acceptance of his reprimand. Vlad shifted his attention to the steward lingering behind him. “I told you to report to me immediately and not let him slip by.”
The steward lowered his head in apology, bending like a sapling in an icy gale under Vlad’s look of displeasure. The tension in the room felt suffocating. Dandelion struggled to breathe, as if his lungs were seizing up under the oppressive atmosphere. Vlad’s sharp, piercing gray eyes scanned the room, locking onto each person with unwavering scrutiny. Tristan felt the crushing weight of his presence, rooted in place by the force of that unyielding stare.
Without breaking his gaze from Tristan, Vlad gave a single command. “Take him away.”
