The nobles whispered with renewed confidence as Vukasin exited the throne room, his failure hanging heavy in the air. For years, he had been the queen’s untouchable enforcer, a figure of fear and strength. But today, Visha had humiliated him in front of the entire court—her rage laid bare.

"You failure," she had said, her voice like ice as she dismissed him, her eyes flashing with unspoken contempt. "You’re nothing without my power Vukasin."

The sting of her words still burned as he lingered in the shadows outside the chamber, listening to the growing murmur of the court. They relished his fall.

“I suppose even the queen’s favorite can stumble,” Lord Arik mocked.

“More like fall flat on his face,” Lady Sevra added with a cruel laugh.

Vukasin had always been above them—feared, revered, a tool of the queen’s will. Now, he was just another failure. They saw the shift, felt the power of his humiliation, and relished it. For the first time, Vukasin was no longer the untouchable weapon of Visha’s will.

The queen had made her point. She had placed him in front of them to be torn down, and the court reveled in it. As Vukasin stood in the shadows, the weight of her rebuke settled in. The queen had reminded him: even he, the queen’s pet, was expendable.