Darius
The prophecy records are lying.
That realization settles slowly. Quietly. Like poison spreading beneath skin.
Interesting. Terrifying.
I stand alone inside the wolf palace archives hours after midnight while storm winds claw against ancient stone walls outside hard enough to rattle candle flames across the long research tables. Most of the palace sleeps. Or pretends to. The bond keeps the kings restless now. I noticed that almost immediately after arriving.
Interesting thing, exhaustion. You can tell a great deal about people from what they sacrifice sleep for.
Cassian patrols the palace when pressure becomes too heavy. Lucien researches until dawn. Eryndor wanders the halls pretending
humor still protects him from fear. And Kaelith. Gods. Kaelith watches Aria like he thinks
