"Get out!" Madam Vale's voice rose to a terrifying, guttural yell that vibrated through the small room. "My son is grieving! We are all grieving four lost souls! I lost my son, and I lost two grandchildren. How dare you stand there and dictate how we process our pain? How dare you measure our worth by your greed?"
The room went deathly still. In the silence, Julian moved.
The transformation was chilling. He stood up, the vulnerability of the last hour receding behind a mask of cold, hard marble. He wiped his face clean with a single, steady motion of his hand. The tears were gone, replaced by an icy, focused intensity that made Kalian straighten his posture, his smirk faltering just a fraction.
