Raizen felt the knife tremble against his skin.
At first he thought it was just his own pulse, the faint shake of blood moving too fast through his veins. He'd been crouched on the branch for long enough that his muscles were starting to complain again, and the fog made everything feel unreal - like the world could change shape at any moment and he wouldn't notice it.
Then the trembling became sharper.
More deliberate.
Raizen's hand slid into his sleeve and closed around the silvery hilt.
The metal vibrated under his fingers as if it had awakened.
His throat tightened.
"…It's starting…?"
Below him, inside the Ruler's chamber, voices moved again. The host spoke first, the careful politeness from earlier now scraped down to something thin and exhausted.
"I've said what I can say" the host murmured. "If you intend to place Alan on the throne, then… Fine. So be it."
