Ryaen Silvershade lifted her head slowly, her eyes rising from her plate as she turned her gaze toward Asher. Her face remained expressionless, her gaze calm, devoid of unnecessary emotion or theatricality.
In noble society, the outcome of a duel or contest between ducal households was rarely left unspoken. When one household triumphed over another, the matter was often publicized with fanfare, wielded as a weapon to diminish the standing and image of the losing side. It was a game of reputation, of influence, and of subtle warfare that existed beyond the battlefield.
Ryaen knew this well, and for that reason she had half expected Asher to make an example of her defeat. She had, after all, lost pitifully in the eyes of the Academy. She had been unable to land even a single hit upon him, while he had emerged unscathed, his Astra reserves untouched, his composure unbroken.
