The tension was building again, commoners and Nobles squaring off despite the Imperial heirs' attempt at peacekeeping.
Alexander Vance tried a different approach, his defensive nature making him focus on practical concerns.
"Think about this logically. We can remove these eight from the group. Let them survive on their own. That would be–"
"A death sentence," Raymond Kingsley finished, his blonde hair whipping in wind that was picking up again. "Which is what you want, right? Justice through exile?"
William opened his mouth to respond, to argue that yes, that was exactly what he wanted–
Then… the screaming started.
****
The eight Nobles who'd used commoners as shields suddenly went rigid simultaneously.
Their eyes – all sixteen of them at once – simply went blank.
Not unconscious or stunned.
Just... empty.
Like someone had dragged their minds elsewhere.
The first one – the boy who'd thrown Sarah – began speaking in a monotone voice that sounded wrong and disconnected.
