The Fall of a House

The air seemed to thicken even more, pressing down on Aric's chest as though daring him to speak, to answer the guard's demand. 

But Aric's mind was clear, his eyes narrowing as he studied the guard's stance, the tension in his body, the way his fingers hovered near his blade.

Behind the guard, Lady Lisellie watched him, her expression smug, triumphant, as though she had already won. In her eyes, Aric saw a gleam of satisfaction, a belief that she had outplayed him, that her shattered crystal had sealed his fate. 

But she didn't understand, couldn't understand. This was only a step in a much larger game, a moment he had anticipated, even hoped for.

The Imperial Guard's boot struck the floor, heavy and unyielding, inching toward Aric like the last steps before a drop-off, promising death with any flicker of resistance. His hand wrapped tighter around the hilt of his sword, a quiet but potent threat.