The Emperor suspected the sincerity of her tears, his stern, hawkish eyes drilling into the fine details of her face, searching for a single slip that would expose the ruse. Yet, Evangeline gave him no opportunity to validate his doubts. Instead, she intensified her weeping and sobbing, drawing her legs tightly up to her chest and curling into herself like a fragile, emotionally broken child before the entire imperial court.
Rivena observed her with profound cunning and sharp intellect, then cut her eyes toward Carcil. He quickly brought his hand to his face, pretending to brush away an imaginary speck of dust to mask the cynical line pulling at the corner of his lips; he knew with absolute certainty that this submissive, pleading spectacle could never belong to the true nature of his scheming, iron-hearted little sister.
