Sevette felt as though every gaze in the hall had turned into a physical weight pressing down on her shoulders.
The eyes of the ancestors were heavy and cold, filled with history and judgment. The eyes of the younger vampires were sharp and restless, filled with curiosity, calculation, and a hunger for entertainment.
They were not just watching her.
They were measuring her.
They were waiting to see whether she would bend or break.
Her throat felt dry.
She looked at them one by one, her lips trembling slightly, then her gaze drifted to Cain.
He stood there calmly, hands behind his back, posture straight, face composed. His expression did not show pity. It did not show concern. If anything, there was a faint interest in his eyes, as
if he were watching a play unfold.
Then her eyes moved to Cornelia.
Cornelia who now stood beside Cain, her face serene, almost gentle. But beneath that gentleness, Sevette felt something sharp and dangerous, like a blade hidden under silk.
