Today, the trap would be set.
Theron had no intention of accusing the Chancellor of anything. He wouldn't need to.
A guilty man rarely required an enemy to destroy him. Given enough fear, he would gladly do it himself.
As Theron entered the royal court, his cloak billowed behind him before settling neatly against his back.
His gaze swept across the chamber.
His father sat upon the throne, his mistress Ingrid occupying the seat at his side with practiced elegance. Alaric was nowhere to be seen.
Finally, Theron's eyes settled upon the Chancellor. Lord Terravain looked exhausted. His posture remained impeccable, but the dark circles beneath his eyes betrayed a sleepless night.
Theron smiled pleasantly. He even inclined his head in greeting. "Bad night, Chancellor?" he asked as he approached. "Couldn't sleep?"
The Chancellor's jaw tightened. He knew the prince was provoking him.
