"By the gods….so the whispers are true?" Bennet's voice shook, caught between horror and opportunistic excitement. "I had dismissed it as a mere rumour, but my son at the Academy confirms it! Everyone is talking! The Princess is broken, and Prince Ivan has finally agreed to cast her aside."
Another minister scoffed, swirling the dark liquid in his glass. "Why the shock, Bennet? We all knew she was a temporary fixture. That grand display of devotion in the royal court was nothing more than an elaborate charade…..a performance to keep his image intact while she kept his bed warm. Now that she is no longer useful, the mask has finally slipped."
"I had already called it first….yet I still had to bear the brunt of that display," Silas replied, his hand drifting to his neck as though recalling Ivan's fingers tightening around his throat.
