บท 220: Bad blood(1)

In every man's life, a time inevitably comes when he must face a choice between two paths: one leads to the satisfaction of his own desires, to the indulgence of his own anger and passions; the other is the hard road of duty, requiring the suppression of those very urges in favor of a greater responsibility.

And for Keval, this was that moment.

If he were to follow his desire, his hand would already be on his sword hilt, his blade drawn, ready to strike down the very kin sitting across from him. She wore a mocking, insolent smirk that set his blood alight, as if this entire affair was some trivial game.

The fact that she had abducted her own son—his nephew—and held the young emperor hostage seemed, to her, little more than an entertaining diversion.