The seating arrangement was like some twisted game of political chess, each piece placed with meticulous intent—though, if you looked closely, some of them were just begging to be taken off the board.
Lekiza sat near the front, the picture of effortless grace, her dress flowing like spilled ink over the chair. She wasn't trying to look regal—it was just in her blood, her movements so smooth it made other nobles look stiff as hell. Her blond hair caught the light just right, and the way she held her chin—yeah, you could tell she had that whole I'm-a-princess-bow-before-me aura down to a science.
But damn, if that wasn't the perfect setup for an attack.
The air shifted. Subtle. Silent. The kind of movement no human eye could catch.
The first arrow materialized mid-flight, aimed straight for her heart from the back. No warning. No sound. Just death, whispering towards her like a lover's breath.
