Lyrian’s Valtheran’s POV
The weight of the crown had long since been lifted from my head, but the burden of power—of legacy—never truly faded. It lingered in the marrow of my bones, an unshakable force, a constant whisper in the back of my mind.
It was in the way people still watched me, wary, uncertain if a man like me could ever truly step aside. It was in the way my name was spoken, not with the reverence it once commanded, but with the hesitant caution reserved for men who had once held absolute power.
Power like mine did not simply vanish. It was not discarded like an old cloak or forgotten like a passing season. No—power endured. It adapted. It found new ways to take root, new paths to reclaim its place.
Though the throne no longer belonged to me, I had not been erased from the
