The royal dining chamber was a tomb of silence.
Morning light, cold and unforgiving, spilled across the long oak table.
It illuminated platters of untouched fruit, stale bread, and roasted meat that had begun to congeal.
The air smelled of wax and old fear.
Queen Seraphina sat at one end.
King Lodrick sat at the other.
As always.
They were miles apart, despite sharing the same blood-soaked table.
Lodrick was reading reports while he picked at his food.
The hunt.
Taxes.
Village complaints about bandits and rot.
The kingdom was drowning in chaos, the edges of the realm fraying like an old wound, yet he treated every report as though it were a minor inconvenience, a fly buzzing around his head.
Seraphina watched him.
Her hands were clenched in her lap, her knuckles white.
She h
