For the remainder of our time in the study room, I stayed seated—half out of obedience, half because the weight in my ribs hadn’t let up since earlier. The physical ache grounded me, but it was nothing compared to the storm of thoughts circling in my mind like crows around a dead monarch’s crown.
Two documents had been drafted under Leonidas’s direction—formal agreements, the kind meant not just to bind us by word, but by legacy. One would go to the elders of the clans. The other was to remain within this house, a binding record of alliances forged under candlelight and quiet rebellion.
Each name signed carried weight: Louise. Lupe. The triplets. Selene. Alvin. Even the quiet maid. Enzo. And of course, Leonidas himself. All threads in the tapestry of this looming war.
Selene worked besi
