(A few hours later, Soron's POV)
Once the two elders had left, Soron's frame gradually reverted to its weakened, mortal form.
He clutched at his chest, grimacing in pain as the effort of maintaining that earlier facade of strength had clearly taken its toll.
"I had long suspected the Council to be rotten... but I did not think it had decayed this far," he muttered under his breath, as he closed his eyes and recalled the information he had pulled from within the thoughts of the two elders.
As beyond the words that the two elders had spoken aloud, Soron had also peered into their thoughts and emotions. He had felt everything they carried in that moment: every fear, every lie, every hope.
He had studied them thoroughly, even before they were allowed inside the castle, examining the truth buried beneath their expressions and carefully chosen words.
By the time they entered the throne room, he already knew what they truly believed and what they secretly wished to accomplish.
