Evening came quietly. Much too quiet.
The scent of ink hung in the air of the royal chamber as Elias sat across from Cassian, a thick stack of reports separating them like a physical barrier between them.
Outside, the sun was beginning to dip, casting long, skeletal shadows across the floor.
Cassian was working through the scrolls with a terrifying efficiency. His eyes moved swiftly. He flipped the heavy pages with a sharp snap that punctuated the silence.
Elias watched him. Specifically, he watched Cassian's hands and movements.
The King did not linger. When a page contained casualty lists—columns of names reduced to tiny, a cramped script in the report—Cassian's fingers moved faster.
He was skipping the ghosts.
Elias reached out, his hand hovering over the report currently under Cassian's gaze.
It was a detailed account of the "Strategic Scorched-Earth Decisions" in the Oakhaven outskirts.
"This one," Elias said, his voice soft. "Why was it necessary?"
