Eight minutes had passed since they had drunk the wine.
Two minutes remained.
Morvana leaned forward on her throne, her golden eyes fixed on Jack with a cold, terrifying intensity. "A compelling demonstration, human," her voice then lowered to a gravely serious tone.
"You have manipulated betrothals, leveraged tournament rules, and coerced my husband into silence. But you seem to forget where you stand. You stand in the heart of Caeloria. Even if Maelor backs his bastard, this Council will never sign the decree. We will nullify the betrothal. We will declare the tournament void. Power in this kingdom belongs to us."
Jack looked up at Morvana, his heterochromic eyes remained unblinking.
"Power in this kingdom belonged to whoever controlled the Bloodrush," Jack replied flatly. "And you lost that control as we speak."
Tymandra gasped, her hand flying to her throat as a sudden, subtle discomfort fluttered in her chest.
