Then suddenly, as if the air itself had grown heavy and tired of holding its breath, Leviathan, or rather, Rebecca.
She broke the silence and said.
Her voice low but sharp enough to cut through every thought in the room,
"Somehow I got my control back, that empress would pay the price."
The words did not come out rushed.
They came out slow, filled with something dark and burning.
As if she had been holding them deep inside her chest for a very long time.
The room felt colder the moment she spoke.
And even the faint sounds around us seemed to fade away.
Giving her words the space they demanded.
Her eyes then slowly fell on the queen.
There was no confusion in her gaze.
No hesitation.
Just recognition and rage.
Rebecca's fingers tightened around the dagger in her hand.
The metal caught the dim light as her grip grew firm, almost white-knuckled.
Her face twisted with anger, her jaw clenched so hard it looked painful.
