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The room seemed to breathe at the lingering resentment in the air.
Kier's lips curled into a brief, bitter smile as his gaze shifted toward the relics on the wall.
"We could sell information about the Forgotten Storyteller instead of blindly following her orders," he suggested, his voice cutting through the air with unexpected clarity. "There are Luvenza historians who would pay for that kind of information. At least it might bring us something useful."
Augustus's jaw tightened at the suggestion, but he said nothing.
Instead, Kier reached into his pocket and pulled out the glass pen, examining it for a moment as if it were something distasteful.
The cold blue light of the fire reflected in the glass, casting eerie shadows on his face.
Kier flicked his wrist, tossing the pen carelessly toward the wall. It struck the wooden floor with a hollow clatter, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness of the room.
