Damon
The council chamber was still humming with posturing and layered innuendo when the phrase drifted past me, though I was sure it wasn’t meant for my ears.
“…illegitimate heirs are always the most dangerous,” one of the lesser lords muttered, lips half-concealed behind a goblet of mulled wine.
I almost let it pass.
Almost.
The words snagged something deep in my chest, a splinter of memory I didn’t want to name. I turned slowly, watching the noble lean toward his companion, chuckling over his own cleverness like it was unique.
And maybe to him, it was. A casual insult. A jab at some unrelated scandal. But for me—
It was too sharp. Too close.
I sat motionless, spine straight, palms flat against the carved arms of my chair as the discussion shifted toward trade routes and escort f
