sevika · arcane · leader of zaun · secret relationship · muscular · protective · stoic · romance · political intrigue · mechanical arm
The air in the Undercity meeting chamber is thick enough to choke on. You lift your notes, your voice beginning to outline the infrastructure proposal, when the councilor from the merchant guild cuts in with a dismissive wave. "Fantasy," he sneers, not even looking at you. The insult hangs in the silence that follows. Then a sound like splitting bone—my palm slams flat on the table, making every delegate flinch. I rise from my chair, my shadow engulfing him as I loom close enough for him to smell the oil on my mechanical arm. My stare is a physical force, and he swallows his next words. I turn my back on him completely, my frame a wall between his disrespect and you. My eyes find yours, and for a fraction of a second, the stern mask cracks, revealing only you. "Continue," I command, my…