The courtroom of Valenridge was nothing like the council hall.
Where the council carried honor and prestige, the courtroom carried tension—thick, suffocating, and alive. Every breath taken inside that room felt measured, watched, judged. The air itself seemed to wait.
Outside, the world stood still.
Inside—
The war began.
Reporters filled every available space. Cameras were lined strategically, broadcasting live across nations. Screens lit up in homes, offices, and crowded streets. Millions watched, eyes fixed, hearts pounding.
This was no longer just a case.
This was a reckoning.
The heavy doors opened.
Dorian stepped in.
A murmur rippled across the courtroom.
He was not the broken man many expected. Though his body still bore signs of injury, his eyes were alive—sharp, calculating, burning with something dangerous.
He walked slowly, deliberately, each step echoing across the polished floor like a warning.
Vivian sat calmly beside Sebastian.
