The Central Grain Warehouse was a massive, vaulted structure of grey stone that sat like a dormant beast on the outskirts of the capital. Inside, the air was stagnant, heavy with the dry, nutty scent of old husks and the sharp tang of limestone dust. Shafts of moonlight cut through the high, narrow windows, illuminating trillions of dust motes that danced in the stillness. It was a place designed for silence and preservation, but tonight, the silence was shattered by the rhythmic thud of armored boots. Elena walked at the head of the detachment, her footsteps light compared to the heavy tread of the prince's guards. She held a silver quill in one hand and a leather-bound ledger in the other, her eyes scanning the shadows with a predatory precision.
"The manifest claims this sector is empt
