The message hung in the air long after the scout finished speaking.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Even the storm outside seemed quieter.
As though the kingdom itself had heard the warning.
"The Crown must fall."
"The Heir must rise."
"Or the darkness returns."
Elira felt a chill crawl up her spine.
The words sounded ancient.
Older than politics.
Older than rebellion.
Older than the prophecy itself.
King Aldric slowly took the parchment from the scout.
The room gathered around him.
The former king studied the faded ink carefully.
His expression darkened.
Then darkened further.
Queen Seraphina immediately noticed.
"You recognize it."
Not a question.
A realization.
Aldric looked up.
For the first time since escaping prison, genuine fear crossed his face.
"I've seen this
