The Weight of Choice
Leon stood quiet, not budging, a statue of golden shadow and light. His expression revealed nothing, but his eyes—those golden eyes—twitched slightly. The warmth that normally sparkled in them faded, focusing into something deadly, a cold sword catching pale moonlight. Aden sensed it at once, the whisper of hidden danger pulsating through that silence. It wasn't explicit, but it vibrated just below the surface, a subtle warning that one couldn't ignore. Nonetheless, Aden's eyes remained fixed, unshifting.
He advanced once, measured, deliberate. His voice commanded, calm but unyielding, cutting cleanly through the heavy tension. "That's my second requirement, Victorious Leon. No coerced war. No forced bloodshed. Freedom of choice. Even a king has to honor that."
