Hazel’s POV
Something wasn’t right.
I stood there staring at Elder Watson as he lowered the empty wine glass, his throat working as he swallowed the last drop. My heart hammered against my ribs. How could he have drunk the wine if it was poisoned? I had expected him to panic, to make a run for it, or at least try to talk his way out so I could expose him in front of everyone. But he just smiled, calm and collected, like he had nothing to hide.
His calm demeanor sent a chill through me. The way light from the grand chandeliers danced across his face, making his smile look almost eerie. I could feel the weight of every eye in the ballroom on us, the air thick with anticipation and unspoken questions.
“I’ve drank it as the queen requested,” he said smoothly, bowing his head slightly.
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