Zayden entered the courtroom, and silence fell—as though the room were mourning a death. He swept his gaze across the assembled figures before finding an empty seat and taking it.
The meeting dragged on for more than three hours. By the time it neared its end, a dull ache had settled into Zayden's body, his limbs stiff and sore from remaining still for so long.
At last, the Emperor noticed him, his sharp gaze landing on the lone figure seated before the throne.
A pause followed—brief, yet heavy enough to make several officials lower their heads.
"General Zayden," the Emperor called, his voice calm but edged with authority. "You rarely attend court sessions unless summoned."
Zayden straightened at once and rose from his seat. He placed a fist over his chest and bowed, his movements precise and disciplined.
"What brings you here today?"
For a moment, Zayden hesitated. Dozens of eyes were fixed on him now—watching.
Listening.
