Soren's gaze moved across the banquet hall with a deliberate slowness that did not match the restless edge building under his calm exterior.
Laughter still drifted through the golden-lit space, nobles still swayed between conversations and music, yet something subtle had already begun to unravel beneath the surface of it all—like a thread pulled just enough to warn of a future collapse.
His eyes narrowed. It wasn't difficult to notice once he truly paid attention.
Daeron's concubine was indeed absent. Not even a trace of her presence in the sections she usually occupied.
Soren clicked his tongue softly, irritation flashing across his features before he let out a low curse.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, shifting slightly as his eyes scanned the hall again, slower this time, more intentional.
"This is exactly the kind of thing that looks harmless until it stops being harmless.
