Vetra was awfully calm.
That was the first thing one noticed, not rage, not desperation, not the flustered panic of someone caught in lies.
Just calm.
Fury radiated from her, yes, but contained.
Channeled into ice magic that dropped the temperature around her chair, frost forming on armrests where her hands gripped, icicles beginning to form from the edge of the table.
Aimed at intimidating Eris, at making the fire queen step back, retreat, recognize the danger she'd provoked.
Eris didn't even flinch.
Stood there like she was immune to cold, like winter itself had no claim on her flesh.
Vetra began speaking, and her voice was soft. Deadly soft.
"I raised him." She looked at Soren, and reader, there was something almost like grief in that gaze. Almost.
"Protected this empire for twenty years while he learned to rule. I bled for Nevareth. Sacrificed everything... my youth, my freedom, my chance at my own family... to keep this throne stable."
