The Fox King's jaw worked soundlessly.
The minor delegates and terrified servants pressed themselves harder against the walls, desperately trying to become invisible in the crossfire.
Lexianna didn't break eye contact with the trembling Saintess on the stairs.
"Come down, Sylvanna," Lexianna ordered.
Her voice wasn't a roar. It was the calm, terrifying directive of a CEO calling an insubordinate junior employee to the front of the room for immediate termination.
Sylvanna didn't move. Her fingers gripped the white marble banister so tightly her knuckles were translucent. The illusion of the perfect, untouchable Saintess was violently splintering.
"I said," Lexianna repeated, the temperature in the foyer dropping several degrees as her newly unlocked magic flared in response to her irritation. "Come down."
