The chamber held stillness like breath caught before the fall of a blade.
Murmurs traveled in hushed waves, some in awe, some in concern, others in envy. The weight of the demonstration had not just shattered doubt. It had cast the room in something colder. Authority made visible. Mastery laid bare.
Arthur didn't move. The Whisperer floated above his palm like a live truth, its runes slowly settling back into their prior latticework, the last curl of light folding inward like a sealed thought.
Then Prince Thalhazel stood, expression flat.
He conferred with his nearest advisors. A senator leaned close. One of the mages from the upper tier whispered tightly, glancing more than once toward Bovras. Words crossed fast behind sealed glances.
Then, with the weight of finality, Thalhazel lifted his hand.
"Mister White." He said, voice composed but edged with authority. "The council has reached its consensus. You have proven the depth of your mastery. And your proposal will be honored."
