"The official record is a work of fiction." Fantasies leave bills.
Silent royal archives in Stonehaven. Nyx Vale whispered her words. No words were exchanged. One bulb with a hood lit a large, scarred wooden table, and she was alone. She did not see the leather-bound state volumes. They found twenty-year-old administration ledgers, supply requests, and prisoner transit logs. Less exciting kingdom areas.
Ink- and dust-stained fingers drew a line in a worn quartermaster's log. "For the holding cell in the West Keep: one wool blanket, one chamber pot, daily rations for one (standard)."Three months after my birth and Seris the Traitor's "executed."
Someone died in prison. Not publicly. Fed.
Nyx has spent years learning to find facts in black holes. It assembled everything. A pack member de
