They heard hurried footsteps outside the chamber.
Fast. Uneven. Angry.
"Please—Prince Zohar! Prince, calm down!" an elven voice pleaded from beyond the door.
The doors burst open.
Prince Zohar stormed in.
His armor was cracked, his shoulder still bandaged, his face twisted with rage and humiliation. His eyes locked onto Nolan the moment he entered.
"You—!" Zohar snarled, marching forward.
"How did you do it, you bastard? What did you do to my father?!"
The air tensed.
Celia stiffened.
Linda took a step forward instinctively.
Damian's eyes narrowed, power quietly rising.
Zohar kept advancing, his hand trembling near his weapon.
"I'll kill you!" he shouted. "I swear I'll—"
"Enough."
King Zul's voice cut through the room like a blade.
Zohar froze mid-step.
"Calm yourself," King Zul said, his tone firm despite his injuries.
Zohar turned sharply. "Father—!"
"You lost," King Zul said plainly.
"And I lost as well."
The words hit harder than any blow.
