The sky was still painted in deep hues of purple and blue, the moon slowly fading into the embrace of dawn when Draka slipped silently out of his chambers. The palace halls were hushed, its occupants still trapped in slumber. Not even Aria stirred, her breaths soft and slow beneath the silk sheets.
Draka moved like a shadow, cloak trailing behind him, and Kaen, his ever loyal warrior followed close behind.
“Are you sure about this?” Kaen asked as they passed through the side gates and crossed into the palace training grounds. The earth was cold beneath their boots, the morning dew chilling the air.
“I won’t sit idle while enemies plot,” Draka grunted, rolling his shoulders, already tossing his cloak aside to reveal a sleeveless tunic. Scars—both old and healing, ran along his back and a
