I am Zilvagias, watching as my mother, who had praised me with a strained smile earlier, now unleashes her fury upon the warriors tasked with guarding me.
"What was even the point of assigning you if you can't do your job properly!?"
Lady Plati, you're going to ruin your beauty with that vein bulging on your forehead, not to mention the dark magic leaking out.
The guards are sweating bullets, enduring her wrath in silence. The elder warrior, who seems to be their leader, has been sentenced to sit in the infamous Seat of Reflection—that excruciatingly uncomfortable chair.
Watching a grown man sit miserably in it somehow makes the chair look even worse.
I saw this coming, honestly. That's why I gave a brief, simple report along the lines of "We came, we saw, we conquered," to gloss over the details. But since Plati insisted on hearing full reports from Viene, Garunya, and my other attendants...
