The silence on the ridge was no longer empty; it was heavy, a physical weight pressed against the chests of the thousand survivors who had begun to drift forward. They moved like ghosts, their eyes fixed on the man cowering at the King's feet.
Alistair didn't look at them. His world had narrowed down to the trembling chemist. "My grandfather," Alistair began, his voice like grinding tectonic plates. "He was no fool. Why did he bind me to a marriage instead of purging the Council?"
Vane's eyes darted to the crowd, his breath hitching. He tried to scramble back, but his heel caught on a jagged rock, sending him sprawling. "He... he tried!" Vane shrieked, shielding his face as Alistair stepped into his space. "But your grandfather was fighting shadows! He didn't know the poisoner was the man standing as his right hand. He thought the marriage would create a block the Council couldn't touch. He was trying to buy you a future, Alistair! He didn't know Valerius had already sold it!"
