The flickering lamplight inside the secluded stone chamber cast long, distorted shadows across the walls. High above the rest of Velis Prominence, tucked behind a shuttered balcony meant only for nobles with names too proud to be seen drinking among the crowds, the heir of House Crane stood alone at the room's center, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white.
His chest heaved.
Not from exertion.
But from fury.
"I should've crushed him," he growled under his breath, voice shaking. "Right there. In front of all of them."
Around him stood his entourage—two attendants, one senior officer of the estate guard, and a family cousin whose robes bore the telltale silk trim of those tied to the Elitist Circle behind the Crown Prince's faction.
"Lord Reynard, please," one of them said quietly. "Your mana has still not stabilized. You could worsen the damage to your inner circuits if you—"
"Silence!" Reynard snapped.
