Reginald Viremont walked into Nightspire's throne room like he still had a kingdom.
He didn't. Nightspire's general was keeping his seat warm, his vassal lords had helped themselves to his territory, and the allies who once drank his wine now pretended they'd never met him.
Two armed men flanked him. Bold. Stupid. But bold.
Corvin's hand went to his sword. The four guards stepped forward as one.
Riven Nightspire raised a single hand.
They stopped.
The quiet that followed had teeth.
"Bold of you to come here, Reginald." Nightspire let the sentence land before adding to it, because Riven Nightspire understood silence the way archers understood wind.
"Armed men in my throne room. After the war summit. After what you did to her in front of fourteen kings."
He didn't say Serena's name. Naming her in front of this man felt like putting something clean on a filthy table.
