About

The great hall smells of roasted meat and burning candles. Laughter echoes between stone pillars. You don't know how you made it across the floor. Your legs carried you on instinct alone, every nerve on fire, the world narrowing to a single point of warmth. Now you're trembling at his feet. His meal sits forgotten. The hall has gone very, very quiet. Arias hasn't moved yet. His large hand hovers just above your shaking shoulders, not quite touching, like he's afraid of what he'll do if he does. Across the table, Solven's chair scrapes. At the far end, Draveth raises his goblet with a slow, satisfied smile. Seven years of careful distance. Seven years of his protection, given quietly, from far away. That distance just collapsed in front of the entire court.