Page 74 of Warlord's Plaything

I can feel it, thick in the air, crawling over my skin like a slow, sinking weight.

The Council is moving.

And they aren’t playing anymore.

The firelight flickers against the walls, casting twisting shadows that stretch and coil. The stench of charred wood and blood clings to my skin.

Valis is predictable.

Kaelith is not.

He’s a man who watches from the edges, waits until the perfect moment before sliding the knife between ribs.

And this—**this message, this carefully timed declaration—**this is the first real cut.

The first fucking warning shot.

I rip the wax seal off, unfolding the parchment with slow precision.

The writing is neat. Too neat.

A carefully scripted threat, dressed in formal pleasantries.

"The Council requests your presence at the High Chamber at dawn. Your decisions have raised concerns. We would hate to misunderstand your… intentions."

It’s not a request.

It’s a summons.

A trap.

And they think I’ll walk into it.

They think they have it in the bag.

"Bad news?"

Her voice cuts through the silence, rough and edged with something unreadable.

I don’t turn.

But I know exactly where she is.

Standing near the stone archway, watching.

Her presence is a weight in the room, a gravity I can’t fucking ignore.

Even now.

Even when the world is starting to crack open beneath my feet.

"You tell me,"I murmur, folding the parchment between my fingers."You’re always good at causing trouble."

She huffs, stepping forward."And you were always good at making sure I paid for it."

I glance at her then.

She’s still wearing the dress from the gathering, but it’s rumpled now, the fabric creased, her hair slightly disheveled.

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