The room fell silent except for the faint hum of arcane lighting in the room. Clyde's sharp gaze locked onto the two High Council members seated before him.
Vernik sat rigid with his staff resting against the table beside him, his expression filled with the cold fury that flickering in his eyes. Clyde also noted the tension in the old man's knuckles as he gripped the armrest of his chair.
Despite having been in the courtyard mere moments ago, Vernik was here already, showing the otherworldly power High Council members wielded.
Beside Vernik was Madri, her brown skin illuminated by the light of the room. Her posture was calm, but her eyes betrayed her feelings — sharp, piercing, and brimming with the same disdain Vernik held for Clyde.
Clyde ignored them both. They were predictable, they just hate him but can't do anything to him. Instead, his attention shifted to Maethion who stood near the wall, carefully handling a familiar small sealed box.
