Windsor's POV
The whispers started immediately. I could feel their stares burning into me as I stood beside Zion, their voices barely concealed. Who was this girl defending Zion Hansen? In their eyes, I was nothing more than a stranger inserting herself into politics she had no business understanding.
Mr. Sinclair exhaled sharply, his face twisting with disbelief. "What ridiculous nonsense is this? Zion Hansen as Praetor? Absolutely impossible."
The murmurs spread like wildfire through the gathering. I felt Zion's fingers find mine, his grip firm and reassuring as he pulled me closer. Even though we had been apart for such a short time, I had missed the warmth of his presence more than I cared to admit.
"Windsor," he breathed against my ear, his voice barely audible over the growing crowd noise. "What are you doing?"
