VARUL
“I dare you.”
The challenge hung in the frozen air of the chamber.
Halvar did not back down. Foolish pride, born of decades serving under a tyrant, hardened his jaw. He opened his mouth, his lips forming the first syllable of my father’s name.
He never finished it.
I moved. The thin veneer of royal composure I had maintained for years shattered into a thousand jagged pieces.
Before Halvar could blink, my hand shot forward. My fingers clamped around his throat like an iron vise.
The crack of his back striking the stone pillar behind him echoed through the council chamber.
The thick muscles of his neck compressed under my grip as I lifted him cleanly off his feet, driving him upward until his boots dangled a foot above the stone floor.
A collective gasp tore through the room
