Chapter 96 - Scourge of the Pure

The imperial hall lay buried under the crushing weight of a suffocating silence, broken only by the internal dread of Duke Julian, who anxiously bit at his knuckles. This was the absolute first time Silver had stripped himself of his farcical makeup and the chaotic colors of his theatrical mask. For the first time, Julian felt a visceral, existential threat rattle the very foundations of his proxy throne. How could he not, when he saw the eyes of Evangeline—who usually looked upon him as her legitimate king—now completely anchored, captivated by a dark luster directed solely at Silver? It was impossible for Julian to deny the sheer, dangerously magnetic sharpness of the features unveiled beneath the paint; it was a visage carved from the clay of monarchs, not slaves.