Back in Veyrhold, Sheila did not answer immediately.
She stood near the central structure with the live map glowing in front of her, Edith beside her and Felix nearby, stylus paused above the Command Log. The blue threat reading continued moving across the projection, a broad pressure spreading toward the green markers representing Liam's group. It was fast. Too fast.
She hated that he was making sense.
She hated more that he knew exactly where to press. He was not arguing because he wanted command. He was not defying her because he wanted to look bold or prove superiority. That would have been simpler. Easier to punish. Easier to reject. He had found the part of her order that could get people killed, placed his finger on it, and forced her to stare at it.
She had authority over him.
But not the kind she wanted in this moment.
