Ansel’s POV
The morning air was crisp, the kind that seeped into your bones if you stood still too long.
Horses snorted, shifting impatiently as my men secured their weapons. The steady clang of metal and murmured conversations filled the clearing.
“Are we expecting a fight?” Elias asked, adjusting the strap of his sword.
I finished tightening the buckles of my gloves. “We don’t know what to expect.”
Kelvin’s last visit still lingered in my mind—his cold warning, the smug certainty in his eyes. Bow to the Queen, or die. It wasn’t just a threat; it was a promise.
Yet he had vanished after that, retreating to whatever wasteland he called home.
That was why we were going. Not to fight, but to find answers. If he had turned his back on his own people, we needed to know why. And if he
