Lark’s POV
The council room reeked of tension. I hadn’t even sat down before Mark slammed his palm against the old oak table.
“She deserves to be crowned,”
The words cracked through the room like thunder. Conversations died mid-sentence. Every elder turned to him as if he’d just suggested crowning a rogue.
“She?” Elder Rami drawled, eyes narrowing behind thick spectacles. “You mean the impure girl who birthed a bastard in secret?”
“That bastard,” Mark snapped, stepping forward, “is my son.”
The room went quiet.
It sucked the air from my lungs.
I blinked. My fingers curled into fists as I stared at my twin brother. What the hell was he doing?
Elder Nara gasped. “You claim the child?”
“I do.” Mark’s voice didn’t waver, not once. “He carries my blood. And his mother, despite what yo
