The mood had turned awkward, and Tara's patience was wearing thin. She glanced sharply at Draven, annoyance flickering in her eyes.
"See what you did?" she muttered under her breath, keeping her voice low but firm. "Because you couldn't be bothered to clear up the misunderstanding, now they all think that brat is actually your successor."
Draven's expression remained stoic, though a slight smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Let them think what they want," he replied calmly. "If they're so easily led, perhaps they need a shake-up."
Tara sighed, rolling her eyes, but the tension didn't leave her gaze.
Venzo, sitting across the table, couldn't hold back his laughter.
"That's right, Tara," he said between laughs. "Don't bother with them. It's their fault for being so easily misled."
He leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face. "In fact, adding some tension might do them good,"
