Elizabeth stood atop Greywatch’s highest tower long after the sun dipped below the horizon, the dying light painting the sky in hues of blood and fire. The cold stone beneath her hands was ancient, older than most kingdoms, and she felt the heavy weight of history settle around her shoulders like a mantle.
This was no longer just about survival.
It was about making a statement.
If the forces chasing her wanted a war, she would give them one and Greywatch would be her battlefield.
Below, Cedric and Mira moved like shadows, repairing the ancient defenses. They worked in silence, broken only by the occasional muttered spell or the clang of a hammer striking rusted metal. The fortress might be crumbling, but its bones were strong, and that was all Elizabeth needed.
Turning from the view,
