Valenbrook stalked across the marble expanse of his private study, his polished shoes clicking against the floor like a metronome marking his rising fury.
The room was dim, illuminated only by the cool, shifting light of holographic projections hovering in the air: city maps, guild reports, and the latest security feeds. Shadows from the flickering displays danced across the walls, stretching and twisting like phantoms stirred by his mounting unease.
The news of Voss's appointment as Head of the City Academy seared through Valenbrook's thoughts like a hot iron branding his pride. It wasn't just an administrative reshuffling—it was an act of war. He clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms.
"Voss always was a schemer," he muttered through gritted teeth. His mind replayed every veiled slight, every calculated move Voss had made to undermine his family's legacy. "And now he thinks he can use my daughter as a pawn."
