Meanwhile, the Nightshade elders gathered in the council hall. Cold blue flames flickered in iron sconces along the walls, casting harsh light across the long obsidian table where the elders sat, their figures rigid, their expressions tight with dissatisfaction.
Elder Roman was the first to break the tense silence. His fingers drummed sharply against the stone surface, the sound echoing far louder than it should have in the vast room. His face twisted in open displeasure, the lines around his mouth deepening as he leaned forward.
"This is getting out of hand," he said, his voice harsh and bitter. "The Lord of Nightshade is no longer listening. A human teacher, living under his roof, walking freely at his side like a consort. Do you understand what this looks like?"
