Night had settled over Castle Valdren like a suffocating shroud.
The great halls had grown quiet, save for the skittering of rats in the walls and the nervous footsteps of servants who moved like ghosts through the torchlit corridors, terrified of making a sound.
Outside, winter winds howled against the ancient stone, sounding like the screams of the damned.
Inside the king's study, Lodrick sat alone.
A map of the kingdom lay spread across his desk, a tapestry of lies and crumbling infrastructure.
Reports from villages.
Tax records that showed empty coffers.
Military accounts that didn't add up.
Complaints.
Starvation.
Bandit attacks.
Plagues.
Everything that had become increasingly common throughout the kingdom as it rotted from the inside out.
The king stared at none of it.
