Word of the forum traveled fast.
By the second day, transcripts of speeches were copied by hand and delivered across Westmarsh and Eastpoint. Taverns read them aloud. Teachers discussed them with students. Even the nobles who had once laughed behind closed doors began to lock those doors a little tighter.
In the square, the speaking platform had grown into a mosaic of crates, benches, even overturned carts. Someone painted the phrase WE SPEAK NOW across the front in white chalk.
I arrived just before midday, accompanied by Mina and Correnne. A hush fell as I stepped up, not out of deference—but anticipation. I could feel it: a shared breath held between us.
Today, I wasn’t the first to speak.
That honor went to Ruel, the long-hesitant dock captain from Hollow. He approached the platfo
