"It will be difficult to manage, we will need stricter rules."
The Matriarch spoke in a sharp but weary tone.
"I have you to rely on for that, don't I?"
Kael turned towards her and… he smiled.
And for a moment, Morvain froze.
That smile…
That tone…
That… question.
It wasn't a simple statement—it was… a demand.
No, not even a demand.
It was a command dressed as courtesy.
And all three of them—Kael, Lavinia, and Morvain—knew it.
Morvain's eyes lingered on Kael's face, watching the quiet calm—as if everything was in his control—in his eyes.
That same calm that had charmed her Council, her soldiers, her people… the same calm that now threatened to take everything from her.
It wasn't arrogance.
It wasn't cruelty.
It was something… far more dangerous.
Certainty.
Kael believed in what he said.
He wasn't asking her to surrender, he was giving her the chance to do it willingly.
He… he was asking her to sign her own fall from power with her own hands.
