Marcus arrived ten minutes early and still felt late. The room had already decided what kind of night it would be.
Nobody raised a voice. They did not have to. Power had a way of making silence feel heavier than shouting.
At the far end of the table, one empty chair waited beneath the Crown City seal. Every person in the room understood what it represented.
One order could change the balance of the city. One refusal could start a war.
When the door opened, every conversation stopped.