Dawn cracked the sky like a promise kept.
Word of the Charter's reading spread beyond Westmarsh and Eastpoint. Caravans carried transcripts to the edge of neighboring provinces. In taverns, apprentices debated clauses with journeymen. Midwives passed copies beneath their shawls. Even city guards whispered articles to each other like contraband prayers.
And in the quiet corners of the Highcourt, opposition stirred.
Lord Merrow convened a private circle of nobles by candlelight. The mood was grim.
"She will not stop," he said, his voice low, tight with fury. "And now she’s given the commoners a scribe with fire in his throat."
"Then we give them something to fear," said Lord Vellain. "Expose the movement’s weaknesses. Frame them as radicals. Make them bleed credibility."
"And if that f
