Jack stepped forward and stopped directly in front of the king.
Their height difference was minimal; Maelor was tall even for an elf, and Jack stood eye level with him, but the gulf between them seemed to expand with each moment of silence.
The space between them carried weight, the tension that arose when two beings who understood power on different levels came into direct proximity.
It was the distance between a king and a god.
"Answer me something," Jack said, his voice dropping into something colder than winter, "Would you sacrifice your daughters?"
Maelor's jaw clenched so hard Jack could see the muscles bunch beneath his pale skin, the effort it took him to remain standing under the weight of the question.
"Your oldest. Your youngest. Would you take them to a place where dragons circle?" Jack continued, his voice never rising, never falling, maintaining perfect control despite the obvious weight behind each word.
