Matt woke up before the first light touched the sky. He sat on the edge of his bed in the quiet room at the top of the Grand Veil Spire and looked out the window. The city below was still sleeping, but a few early lanterns glowed like small stars in the streets. He rubbed his eyes and felt the familiar weight in his chest. Not the hunger this time — the hunger had been quiet for many days — but the weight of responsibility. He was the Sovereign, but he knew the harmony was not built by him alone. It was built by many hands, many hearts, and many stories.
He stood up, washed his face with cold water, and put on his black coat. The old grandmother’s scarf was still around his neck. It was so worn now that threads were coming loose, but he refused to replace it. It reminded him of the beginn
