The Chancellor’s face twisted as if Evans’ calm was an insult he could not tolerate.“Shut your mouth,” he barked, finger stabbing toward Evans again. “In Rovek, men like you learn silence quickly. You don’t speak over my wife. You don’t speak in my presence.”Evans didn’t move. The cold night air brushed his cheeks, carrying the smell of car exhaust and hospital disinfectant. He could feel eyes on him from the entrance, nurses half-hidden behind glass, guards holding their breath.“I didn’t humiliate her,” Evans said, voice steady. “She humiliated herself. A child was dying.”The Chancellor’s wife scoffed loudly, stepping forward like she wanted the crowd to hear her more than they heard him. “Listen to him,” she said, mocking. “He thinks he’s important because he played hero for ten minutes. Look at his clothes. He’s a beggar with a loud tongue.”The Chancellor nodded as if she had given him permission. “Exactly,” he snapped. “You want to act brave? Then you’ll learn what power fee

“Do you want everything we have to disappear in one night?”She stared at him, still clutching her cheek. “You’re the Chancellor,” she said again, weaker now. “Why are you scared of him?”The Chancellor swallowed and looked toward Patrick like he needed permission to explain. When Patrick didn’t stop him, the Chancellor spoke, voice raw. “Because Rovek is not mine,” he said. “It has never been mine.” He pointed shakily toward Patrick without daring to extend his finger fully. “Rovek belongs to him. He is the kingmaker. We chancellors are ceremonial leaders. We smile, we speak, we sign what we’re told to sign.”Silence spread through the crowd.Even the hospital administrator looked like his knees might fold even though this was not a new information for him to digest. Evans felt something cold settle in his stomach, not because he doubted Patrick’s power, but because he finally heard it said out loud by someone who lived under it.The Chancellor’s wife looked as if the world had shi

Evans closed the window. “No,” he said. “But I believe that I can make a difference.”Patrick’s lips pressed together. “That’s how you end up disappointed.”Evans turned to him. “And this is how you end up cold.”Patrick didn’t flinch. “Cold survives.”The car crept forward another few feet, tires crunching softly over uneven asphalt. Patrick kept his eyes on the road, but his voice carried something older now, heavier.“Trying to make a difference doesn’t make people love you,” he said. “It doesn’t make them grateful. It doesn’t even make them remember you kindly.” He paused. “It just makes you visible.”Evans watched a cracked building slide past the window. “Being visible isn’t a crime.”“No,” Patrick replied. “But it is dangerous.” He exhaled once. “You think sacrifice earns loyalty. It doesn’t. It earns expectation. And when you fail to meet it, they turn.”Evans frowned. “You’re talking like this from experience.”Patrick’s jaw tightened. “I am.”The car slowed again. Sunlight

She swallowed. “Please good sir, business has been bad,” she said quickly, words rushing as if speed could convince him. “The border… the Aureldrake clan are heavily stationed at the second line between Rovek and Drakarion. Imports are limited. Fresh stock is harder to get. People don’t buy like before.”The clean-looking man scoffed. “Don’t say big names to impress me,” he snapped. “I don’t care about clans. I don’t care about borders. I mean how does war or even politics affect me recieving my money?”“But that’s the reason,” she pleaded. “I sell fruit and drinks. I need fresh goods. If I had what I used to get—”He cut her off with a sharp laugh. “If, if, if.” He pointed at her stall. “All I see is a weak woman hiding behind stories.”Evans turned his head slightly toward Patrick. “You hear this?”Patrick’s eyes stayed on the road. “I hear it.”“And you’re still sitting here,” Evans said.Patrick finally looked at him, and his gaze warned him without raising its volume. “You asked

Heat hit Evans the moment his boots touched the road.The smell was dust, sweat, crushed fruit, and hot metal from engines trapped in traffic. People stood in a loose circle, not too close, not too far, as if distance could keep them innocent. At the center, the sick-looking mother tried to push herself up, her hands trembling on the pavement. Her son’s scream still rang in the air as the thug dragged him like a prize.“Stop!” Evans’ voice cut through the street, firm and clear. “Put him down.”The thug didn’t stop. He only tightened his grip and dragged the boy harder, like pain was part of the lesson. The boy’s face was wet, dust stuck to his cheeks. The mother coughed again and reached out, but her arm shook and dropped.Marrec turned his head slowly, finally looking at Evans like Evans had interrupted a meeting. “Who’s this now?” he asked, amused. “Another hero in daylight?”Evans pushed through the crowd. People moved back without thinking, the way people moved away from fire