(Romulus POV)
The hall was empty, yet I could still feel them.
Their voices had faded. Their robes no longer brushed the stone. The water beneath the floor flowed as it always had—obedient, constant.
And still, something lingered.
A victory should settle the air. It should bring the quiet certainty that a line has been drawn and respected.
This one did not.
I stood at the edge of the arbitration chamber long after the last attendant departed, my gaze fixed on the channel of water that cut through the marble floor. The current glided forward without disturbance, reflecting the light from the high windows above.
Too smooth.
"They yielded too easily," I said.
Raem Khadir stood beside me, hands folded behind his back. "Yes."
No disagreement. No attempt to soften the truth.
"They accepted terms they came prepared to resist," I continued. "They conceded ground before I pressed."
Raem inclined his head slightly. "Because today was never about ground."
