The horns split the dawn like a blade.
Men shouted, steel clashed, and the crowd that had knelt for me seconds ago scattered in panic. Rowan’s soldiers surged from the alleys, their banners tattered but still flying his crest—the serpent reborn.
For a heartbeat, I couldn’t move. He was supposed to be locked in chains. Broken. Defeated.
But there he stood—bloodied, defiant, alive.
“Seize him!” Rowan’s voice rang out. “Prince Kael is a traitor to the crown!”
The soldiers hesitated, torn between two oaths. I saw it in their eyes—the confusion, the fear, the instinct to follow whoever seemed stronger. Rowan was playing his final card, and he played it well.
Liora grabbed my arm. “Kael! We have to fall back—”
“No,” I said, voice low. “Not yet.”
She stared at me. “You can’t fight him her
