"Alaric may roar like a storm, but storms pass. I am the silence that remains when the thunder fades, and silence, my dear assassins, can kill just as surely as any blade." – Maelis
3RD POV
The royal council chamber was still thick with the scent of death. Though Tovik's body had long been carried away, Maelis could still smell the faint iron tongue of blood in the stone, as though the kingdom itself refused to forget the execution Alaric had carried out before their very eyes. Maelis sat in silence, his robes falling heavy around him, his expression composed. But inside, he was calculating. Always calculating.
Alaric's fury had been naked, brutal, and decisive. The King had snapped Commander Tovik's neck as though the man had been no more than an insect, and the ripple of fear that had swept through the chamber had been palpable. The Silver Fang assassins had bowed, shaken to their very core, and sworn loyalty to the Northern King.
