After the fight, Klein returned to his tent at a leisurely pace, hands thrust into his pockets, without even glancing at the damage he had caused. A few minutes later, the curtains at the entrance parted to let the faction leaders through.
The atmosphere had changed radically. Where there had previously been barely concealed arrogance, Klein now perceived only prudence mixed with a respect tinged with fear. They settled back into their seats, avoiding meeting his gaze for too long. Lysandra entered last. She had changed out of her torn combat outfit for new clothes, but the bandages wrapped around her torso where Klein's attack had struck were visible under the collar of her shirt. She cast a brief glance toward him, a complex gleam in her eyes, but as soon as their pupils met, she abruptly turned her head away to find a place at the back of the room.
Silence fell, heavy and stifling, until Klein spoke to break the palpable tension.
