Chaos.
That’s what Cassian’s voice sounded like echoing through the open dining gardens of King Red’s palace. Maids froze mid-step, guards stiffened, even the breeze seemed to hesitate. He simply couldn’t accept that I had taken the lead. Again.
One accusation.
One bite of the wrong potato.
And suddenly he was unraveling like silk dragged across thorns.
Crash was dead asleep in the back of my mind—useless in this argument.
Cassian spun toward the staircase that led back inside the castle. His words struck harder than any weapon.
“I will declare war over this! You have crossed my last line, Carter!”
The guards at the archway snapped to attention, not for me—for him. His fury rolled off him like heat from a furnace, and nobles peered nervously around hedges and columns, whispering.
