The air was crisp and still, the kind of stillness that precedes a storm. The skies above Verauno were heavy with dark clouds, and the scent of rain mingled with the faint metallic tang of fear.
The soldiers moved with purpose, their armour clinking softly as they prepared for the day’s drills. It was a routine that had grown familiar, even as the threat of rebellion loomed closer with each passing day.
I was in the courtyard, watching the training grounds from the shadows of the stone archway. The soldiers were sharp, their movements precise as they sparred and practised formations. But even from a distance, I could see the tension in their shoulders, the flicker of doubt in their eyes.
We all knew it was only a matter of time.
“Aria,” Asher’s voice broke through my thoughts, low and
