“If you truly want me, renounce the crown you would gain through me first.”
Albert had not answered before the market bells began ringing.
Not the steady call for morning trade.
The alarm.
Evelyn reached the outer corridor as a palace guard ran toward them.
“General, the central market has closed. People are forcing the grain depot.”
Albert’s attention shifted from the locked crown to the city beyond the windows.
“What caused it?”
“A report that Greyhaven will impose new taxes after the ceremony.”
“The levies were suspended.”
“The crowd believes the suspension ends tomorrow.”
Evelyn was already moving.
The mate bond pulled once as she passed Albert.
He followed.
By the time they reached the palace steps, smoke rose from the lower square. It was not a building fire yet. Market
