"Have you no regard? Or have your victories in the last fights clouded your senses?" Adam's voice carried the kind of quiet authority that made every head turn sharply in his direction. His tone wasn't raised, but the warning beneath it was unmistakable — cold, clipped, and edged with disbelief.

They had all realized I wasn't going to stand. Good.

I lifted the teacup again, unhurried, letting the delicate porcelain brush my lips as if I hadn't just been accused of sacrilege. The tea had cooled slightly, but the sip was deliberate–a statement.

Then I turned my head, tilting it slightly, feigning mild surprise. "Not at all, King," I said...