Jake Laushen's hand clenched tightly around the scroll as he read Sullivan's message, his knuckles whitening with fury. The words were like venom, each one piercing deeper.
His son was in captivity, and the threat was unmistakable. Yet, even this dire news wasn't enough to fully ignite his anger when another report reached him, this time far more infuriating.
"My Lord," a soldier stepped into the room, his voice trembling with urgency, "the townspeople have gathered en masse outside the main gates of the residence. Their numbers are substantial, and their agitation is palpable. They're demanding your withdrawal from leadership, and the situation grows more volatile by the minute. Resorting to force against them seems unwise—they're too inflamed for violence to be effective."
