The tension in the chamber thickened like a thundercloud ready to break. Galen's words didn't just echo—they stabbed, each one like a blade dragging ghosts out of the dark. Even the chandeliers hanging up the walls seemed to flicker lower, shadows creeping in like silent witnesses.
Caelum's jaw flexed, grinding against the past. Seralyne's narrowed eyes never left Galen. But it was Valemir and Tharion who froze—not confused, not shocked… just haunted. The kind of stillness that only comes when old wounds are ripped wide open.
"I remember that day clear as if it happened this morning," Galen murmured, his voice lower now, but sharper—razor-edged and laced with venom. "A woman who asked for nothing but a life of peace. A home. A family. But because she fell for the wrong man, you called her a threat. A danger to your precious kingdoms. And without so much as a trial, you erased her like she was nothing more than a fly."
