A cold dread spread through Damon.
So Jasper had started digging personally. Not through official channels, which would have been slow and easily traceable, but with a quiet, private ruthlessness that only his father possessed. This wasn't just a king investigating a subject; this was a father trying to assert control, to sever a connection he deemed unsuitable.
Damon's throat worked, his jaw clenching so hard he felt a dull ache in his jaw. He folded the document back into the envelope with deliberate, almost painstaking calmness, as if the slightest tremor might reveal the tempest raging within him. His knuckles remained white, strained against the paper.
This wasn't entirely unexpected. He'd known his father would eventually act, that the King's patience for his son's "distractions" had limits. But this was too soon. It bypassed the usual bureaucratic channels, the slow grind of royal protocol. It bypassed him.
