The great oak doors shut behind them, sealing out the restless hum of the castle.
For a moment, the room felt unnaturally still—like the vast grounds themselves were holding their breath.
Lucian stood at the head of the map table, shoulders squared, posture unyielding. Talia took the chair beside him, though she did not lean back. Elder Neris stood opposite them, spine straight despite her age. The King lingered near the hearth, one hand braced against the mantle, as though stones were the only thing keeping him upright.
The map between them was no longer clean.
Red markers dotted the parchment—villages, ward-lines, council halls. Each one felt less like a strategy and more like blood spilled in advance.
The King broke the silence.
“Everyone in this room has been briefed on what was
