As Neonidas' words echoed through the room, all eyes locked onto him for a brief moment. After the assassination attempt in the dead of night, it was no surprise that he had made a swift decision. Yet, the weight of his words settled heavily upon everyone.
Zalira crossed her arms, her blue eyes narrowing with anger. "Are all the women going to stay in your room?" she asked with a mocking tone. "Is this for protection, or is it some kind of…" Her gaze shifted to Cassandra, then to Solara and the others. "... control?"
Neonidas met his sister's challenging stare with calm indifference. Ignoring the tears in his shirt, he walked toward her with slow, deliberate steps. "You know me, Zalira," he said, his voice deep and soft, yet carrying a steel-like certainty beneath. "If I truly wanted control, I wouldn't need this."
