I didn’t even wait for my cloak to be removed. I didn’t greet the guards stationed at the gates. I didn’t ask for permission.
I walked. Not with poise. Not with grace. But with fury… sharp, focused, and undeniable.
The marble steps leading into the High Court were endless, but each step only made my resolve harder. The guards I passed bowed, hesitated, then exchanged fearful glances. They knew where I was going.
They also knew I had no right to storm in like this. Not here. Not in his hall.
But I couldn’t stop.
My chest was burning, not with sickness, not with weakness, but with outrage.
What I saw out there… Children boiling stale grain water just to silence hunger. Fields stripped bare to “serve the crown.”
Homes abandoned because no one survived long enough to claim them. And at
