But before Kaelus could reach them, Seraphina acted.
She looked at the torn paper in her hand.
She looked at the crumpled dragon on the floor.
She didn't cry.
She didn't look at Kaelus for help.
Seraphina looked up at Lady Drusilla.
Her soul fully aligned with the arrogant, spoiled persona of the Northern Heir.
Her dark eyes went completely, terrifyingly cold.
"You ripped my dragon," Seraphina stated.
Her voice wasn't a childish whine.
It was a quiet, chilling declaration of fact.
Drusilla, suddenly feeling the crushing weight of the silent Vanguard watching her, tried to maintain her bluster. "It was stupid anyway! You're just a stray! I can buy a hundred paper—"
Seraphina didn't let her finish.
Moving with a sudden speed that made Sir Lucas's assassin-heart swell with pride, Seraphina reached forward.
She didn't hit Drusilla or pull her hair.
Seraphina grabbed the pigeon-egg ruby pendant hanging around Drusilla's neck.
With a yank, Seraphina pulled it off.
SNAP!!
