The meeting dragged on until the sun began to tilt toward the west. Orange light filtered through the stained-glass windows of the Hexagon Hall, casting a spectrum of colors across the white marble floor. Yet, not a single definitive decision had been reached. Only hatred had intensified; only prejudices had hardened.
Finally, after hours of debate that yielded nothing but deeper wounds, King Edward IV raised his hand. The absolute authority of a monarch filled the room.
"Enough."
Edward's voice echoed, cutting off Alexander, who was preparing to hurl another curse.
"This meeting is adjourned. Duke Sudrath, you may return to the North."
Lucian looked at Edward. His eyes were flat, showing neither gratitude nor disappointment. He merely offered a formal nod, as a duke must behave in the presence of his king.
However, before he could even rise, Alexander was already on his feet, his white robes billowing from a surge of mana.
