The contempt on Seraphine's face didn't soften by even a fraction.
She didn't move from where she stood. The edge of her robe fluttered as surging energy lifted it, and her Divine Power spread outward in layered waves. The light wasn't blinding—if anything, it was restrained—but it carried weight. It pressed down hard enough that the air itself trembled with tiny, strained vibrations.
In the next breath, that radiance gathered above her head, following an invisible outline as it rapidly condensed into a colossal sacred projection.
The projection lowered its head, lifted an arm—
—and slammed down at the space ahead.
The man's pupils snapped tight. A hint of laziness still lingered on his face, but the moment that sacred shadow fell, he finally understood: Queen Seraphine wasn't testing him.
From the start, she hadn't planned to leave him a way out.
