The Golden Guards shifted, their overlapping shields forming a wall of gilded steel. They were the Emperor's personal shield, men trained to die before yielding an inch, yet even they flinched as Alaric's hand gripped the hilt of his sword.
The screech of the blade leaving its scabbard was a high, mourning wail that silenced the frantic shouting of the lesser guards.
On the balcony of the Jade Wing, Julian felt his [Mental Stability] spike and dip violently in his peripheral vision.
> [Stability: 36% — WARNING: High Stress Environment]
He leaned over the marble railing, his knuckles still white as bone as he clutched with a hard grip. He could see the Emperor now—Aurelian had stepped out onto the central balcony, draped in his shimmering robe, looking down at his brother with a smile that was nothing short of sociopathic.
He looked genuinely amused, as if he were watching a particularly entertaining play where he already knew the ending.
