For a moment, silence settled like a fine mist over the table. Even King Paul looked toward his nephew now, his sharp features unreadable but eyes narrowed slightly, calculating.
Heiko didn’t look at his cousin right away. He finished cutting his food, placed the knife down with meticulous calm, then finally lifted his head. His voice, when it came, was cool and deliberate, each word heavy as a hammer falling onto steel.
“Dear cousin,” he said, his tone deceptively courteous, “you are the politician. I am the warrior. Let me worry about the northern border.”
Thas raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, but before he could speak again, Heiko continued, his voice now iron-hard, laced with finality.
“And the mating ceremony date remains the same as announced.”
The sharpness of those words cut
