The Regent's voice cut through the chamber like a blade.
"Prince Aetherion," he declared coldly, "you are hereby placed under arrest for conspiracy, treason, and attempted regicide. Your personal guard as well."
For a heartbeat, Aetherion froze.
Then he lunged forward, desperation cracking through his pride. "Regent... listen to me. This is a lie. A fabrication. You know me. I have defended this land with my blood—"
His pleas echoed uselessly.
When the Regent's expression did not soften, something in Aetherion snapped.
He laughed—sharp, broken, venomous.
"You little rat," he snarled, twisting toward Silmarien. "You think a crown will save you? I swear upon the roots of the Mother Tree—I will bring death to you. To the elders. To every single one of you who dares stand here and watch this farce."
Before another word could leave his mouth, the walls responded.
