Lucien chuckled inside my head, the sound laced with barely concealed malice.
"Care to explain why you are poking around my lands, little star?" he asked pleasantly. "One might think you were looking for something you lost."
I stopped.
Not my pacing, my temper.
Barely.
I hated him.
I hated both of them.
If hatred were mana, I could have drowned continents with what I felt toward the Demon King and the Elven King alike. They were parasites on the world, dressed in crowns and eternity, playing at order while grinding civilizations beneath their boots.
Lucien, at least, was honest about it.
Lunarith pretended he was better.
I didn't bother acknowledging the elf's presence at first, even though his domain pressed against my perception like a blade resting on my throat. His voice had been calm earlier, but I could feel the edge behind it, the way one feels a drawn bow even before the string is released.
Lucien, on the other hand, savored this.
