The air in the hall was so thick with tension that it felt as though the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.
Rowan sat motionless at the head of the massive oak table, his fingers intertwined, his gaze not leaving Marek’s face for even a second.
The elders shifted in their seats, their whispers dying down as the weight of the rogue leader’s accusation settled over them.
"You speak of being framed, Marek," Rowan said, his cold voice echoed in the quiet hall. "That is a bold claim for a man whose people have been seen tearing through our borders and spilling the blood of our people for years. What proof do you bring to this table, other than your word? The word of a rogue carries no weight in the halls of Frostpine."
Marek didn't flinch, a smirk played on his lips like he had expec
