Elora’s POV
The council chambers reeked of old wood and someone's half burnt cigar. I pressed my hands flat against the table, wood slick and cold, every last pair of eyes glued to me like I might burst into flames.
Dominic’s empty seat glared like a missing tooth. Couldn’t look at it without something twisting hard inside me. He should’ve been here, right? Voice slicing through the posturing, settling arguments with a glance. But nope, laid up in bed, skin gray and sweating, whatever poison crept through him still a mystery.
So guess who gets to wear the crown tonight?
Everyone has been restless for days. The whole place is jittery with talk of border raids, more patrols missing, some of our best people just not coming back. Every meeting is the same old bickering, like anyone wants t
