Karl leaned in closer, his tall frame looming over her as he casually rested one hand on the stone balustrade.
He cast a sharp, dismissive glance down into the warm glow of the conservatory, where Princess Ferayah Ardelune still clung to the Urag with delicate, effortless grace.
A cold, mocking curl touched the corner of Karl's lips before he turned his head back, his violet eyes locking onto Eiravyne with lethal, razor-sharp focus.
"What did you expect?" he drawled softly, his voice low. "After all, Urag is the King's lap dog. He has been crawling on his knees, serving him for years..."
He tilted his head slightly.
"...of course he's the princess's lap dog, too."
Even with her heart bleeding in her chest, the insult rose in her throat like poison.
Eiravyne's head snapped up, a fragile, forced smile stretched painfully across her pale face, but her eyes flared with a desperate, defensive spark.
