The silence that followed those words seemed to alter the very temperature of the library.
The flames in the fireplace continued to crackle gently, but no one there felt any warmth.
"She dies."
Morgana's words carried no explosive anger.
That would have been less worrying.
The problem was precisely her absence.
Her voice was too calm. Too cold. Like someone who had finally crossed an inner boundary and discovered that she had no intention of returning.
Cherry completely abandoned her usual smile.
Even she noticed.
This was no longer just revenge.
It was execution.
Damon watched Morgana's hand resting on the hilt of the blade fastened to her waist. Her fingers were firm. Without tremor. Without hesitation.
Elizabeth was the first to move.
"Morgana." Her voice remained controlled, but lower now. "Look at me."
She didn't take her eyes off the bloodstained tape on the table.
