"So, is this the rat responsible for my assassination attempt days ago?" Zalyric's voice cut coldly through the throne room with tone laced with disdain.
He sat upon his throne with one leg crossed lazily over the other and head tilted as his chin rested against his hand. To anyone watching, his expression carried the look of someone utterly bored.
At the base of the dais, a middle-aged man bowed so low that his forehead nearly touched the floor, both palms pressed firmly against the cold stone. Around them, nobles observed in tense silence, their faces a mix of fear and anticipation while armored knights stood on standby behind the trembling man.
"Mm… too bad I didn't die, isn't it?" Zalyric murmured with a thin smirk, his hand still propped beneath his chin.
Beside the throne, Evan stood stiffly, his throat tightening as he swallowed hard.
