The betrayal came from someone Seraphina had already forgiven.
That was what made it lethal.
The announcement was scheduled for midday—ostensibly a routine council update. No emergency language. No warning flags. Just a quiet summons that drew attention precisely because it appeared harmless.
Damien felt it the moment they entered the chamber.
Too many eyes.
Too much space between seats.
Too much careful neutrality.
“They’re staging this,” he murmured.
“Yes,” Seraphina replied. “Publicly.”
The Watcher hovered close, projections tightening like a drawn wire.
Separation vector imminent.
“I know,” Seraphina whispered back.
Councilor Maelin stood first.
He had once defended Seraphina with ferocity. Had argued her necessity, her restraint, her vision. He looked older now. Thinner.
