Miraless looked at Kaiser.
Then she looked down at her own body.
Her hands rested in her lap, fragile and cracked, the fingers too thin, the skin lined like old parchment stretched over glass. The fractures along her face caught the light from the pond, making her look less like an elf and more like some sacred statue that had been broken, repaired badly, then forced to keep ruling through pride alone.
For a long moment, she said nothing.
Lorina stood beside her, tense enough that even her breathing seemed careful. The guards remained with weapons half-raised. The World Tree pulsed quietly around them, its immense presence filling the upper sanctum with a life so dense it made every silence feel watched.
Finally, Miraless sighed.
"Do your worst then."
Kaiser smiled.
It was not comforting.
"It won't be pretty."
He lifted his red finger.
