“The deadliest threats aren’t always those outside the gates. Sometimes, they’re the ones sitting at the table beside you.”
The council chamber smelled of parchment and polished wood, the kind of place where words held as much weight as steel. I had spent countless hours here, arguing, negotiating, fighting for Verauno’s survival. But today, as I stepped inside, something felt off.
Not wrong. Not obvious. Just… off.
Asher was already seated at the head of the long table, his sharp gaze sweeping over the gathered nobles and advisors. The tension in the room was thick, but no one dared speak first. They were waiting for us to begin.
I took my seat beside him, clasping my hands on the table. “Let’s get to it.”
Lord Idris leaned forward, his expression neutral, but the way his fingers tap
