**Balder—Christian Reindl, Lucie Paradis**
"Shall I have the guards throw you out…"
Ember lifted one hand lightly, stopping Calyx before she could say more. Her gaze remained fixed on Riven, unreadable, but the air around her cooled a degree.
"No, let him speak," she said, voice levelled, almost bored. "The forgotten are often the ones who observe the most. I would hate to silence what might finally prove useful."
Riven straightened from his bow, eyes still sharp, still fixed entirely on her—like a man who had learned early that looking away meant being devoured.
"Useful," he echoed, a faint scoff threading through the word. "That is what you call the Shantavilles now, is it? Tools to use until they splinter."
She tilted her head. "Tools only splinter when they are made of cheap wood. I had assumed a Duke's bloodline was sturdier than that."
