C152 Always Her

The slabs of rock pointed at Matthea grew sharper and longer with every drop of word out of Kalel's mouth. It wasn't just an icy peck anymore. The rock lance aimed at Matthea's throat was slowly clawing deep into her veins, blood spilling down her neck. Yet even with the painting of crimson, Matthea's face revealed no remorse.

Kalel grits, "You wanted the king to know about Amara's healing