The ruined guest room was a graveyard of broken wood and shattered porcelain. The dust had barely settled from Arthur's violent outburst, but the tension left behind was suffocating.
Lilian sat stiffly on the only remaining unbroken chair, her eyes staring blankly at the floor. Across from her, Rivina paced. The Empress moved back and forth, the heavy fabric of her cloak sweeping against the splinters with a frantic friction.
"Calm down, Rivina," Lilian murmured, exhausted by the endless cycle of violence.
"Calm down?" Rivina snapped, halting abruptly. Her sharp features were taut with maternal fury. "By the old gods, Lilian, she is with Arthur. You expect me to maintain my composure while my daughter is in the clutches of that madman?"
"Silver is with him too," Lilian countered softly. "He has both of them. Just breathe."
