There were those who hated the godlings still.
But that hatred no longer felt clean.
It tangled with fear, shame, and a quiet, unbearable doubt.
The nobles reacted differently.
Whispers hissed between silk-clad figures, sharp and urgent. Some masked their unease behind practiced disdain, lips curled in scorn at the audacity of beings who aren't humans lecturing humanity. Others had gone very still, eyes narrowed in calculation.
A few nobles avoided looking at the crowd entirely, sensing that the same people they had once stirred into righteous fury were now beginning to look back.
Erik stood apart from all of them.
He had not moved since the godling finished speaking.
His expression remained composed, regal, controlled but something behind his eyes had fractured. The accusation had not struck him as an enemy's blow, but as a mirror held too close.
He had known the cost of his choices.
