Saint snarled and took a sharp breath, even he was surprised at how sharp, clear, and demanding it had come off.
The first thing he had spoken since they arrived in the room for their face off and his voice had echoed with power more subtle and demanding than Ngeun could ever possess.
It didn't exude pressure or anger, just a steady, calm power that beat down on the room, oppressive in its demand to be paid attention to.
Because Saint had used that same voice, he had seen his grandfather use all those years ago. The same voice his grandma used; a voice that commanded subservience and repentance.
"Odd, you have been watching me for such a long time father, I would have assumed you were smarter than this."
Saint walked up to the table,then pulled out a chair. Each one the last time he was here, had been like a mini throne, and he reveled in the fact that his father had extra chairs brought in with the other thrones taken away.
'How childish and petty.'
