The council chamber froze once more.
Several nobles exchanged glances, as though only now someone had dared to voice the truth so plainly, without dressing it up in the language of honor or the safety of the empire.
"We choose Liv," Jay continued, his gaze fixed straight ahead, "and we lose the Zelthar child lose the future of this clan. War still comes. Blood is still spilled."
He drew in a deep breath, his chest rising and falling heavily.
"We choose the child," his voice trembled now, "and Liv dies. Chaos still comes. War still comes. And I—"
Jay stopped. His jaw tightened, as though he had to swallow something unbearably bitter.
"—lose my wife."
The word my wife fell simply, and that simplicity was what struck hardest. There were no titles, no politics only a naked confession.
"In those two choices," Jay went on, "there is not a single one that can be called a victory."
