The night after the Regent’s death was eerily quiet. The moon hung pale and thin over the city like a blade, casting silver light across the battered rooftops. Smoke still drifted from scattered fires where skirmishes had flared in the streets earlier that day.
In the keep’s courtyard, the bells had finally stopped tolling. What replaced them was worse—the silence of a city holding its breath, waiting to see what would come next.
Kael stood alone near the shattered gates of the keep, his chains trailing across the bloodstained stones. The weight of victory pressed heavily on his shoulders, though his face betrayed nothing. His gaze swept the city below, watching the flicker of lanterns as frightened citizens gathered indoors, too unsure to celebrate or mourn.
The boy approached quietly,
