The Council of Lords had expected a coronation of their own influence. With the introduction of the Heir Assurance Clause, they believed they had finally backed the King into a corner where logic would dictate the total eclipse of the "Anchor." They waited for Cassian to roar, to negotiate, or to yield.
Instead, Cassian sat in the high-backed throne of the conqueror, his hands resting flat on the arms. He didn't look at the Northern envoys. He looked at the room as if it were a map he had already mastered.
"The crown has heard your concerns regarding the assurance of lineage," Cassian said, his voice carrying a resonant, metallic edge. "However, this is a matter of constitutional balance. My co-sovereign will answer for the throne."
The chamber stiffened. It was a visible, physical jolt that traveled from the Chancellor to the minor clerks. By stepping back, Cassian wasn't avoiding the blow; he was weaponizing Elias.
