*Greenwood Territory*
The morning mist had not yet cleared when Crystal and Ryder stepped through the threshold of the sacred grove.
The trees stood taller here. Each branch overhead arched like a cathedral ceiling, filtering light into beams of silver and green. It was quiet.
Ahead, the stone platform waited, surrounded by roots.
And on that platform stood the King.
His figure was tall, lean but unbent by time. Hair dark with a streak of silver lines. His cloak of forest green and gold swirled with the breeze.
His eyes had no white
Ryder slowed his steps. Crystal felt his tension tighten, though his face remained composed. She followed beside him, her own heart steady but aware that this was not a meeting of equals.
The King of Greenwood had ruled long before Ryder was born, bef
