The dawn broke over Aranor like a muted flame, its light struggling to pierce the heavy clouds. Elias stood on the battlements, cloak wrapped tightly against the chill, eyes fixed southward. Beyond the horizon lay the marshes, and beyond them—the Oracle of Thorne, his only hope of breaking the cursed mark.But behind him, the fortress stirred. Whispers traveled faster than wind. He could feel it in the glances of the guards, the hushed tones of servants. The court already sensed something was amiss.Caldus joined him on the wall, his armor gleaming faintly in the new sun. “The men are restless,” he said. “They don’t understand why we ride with so few. Some call it a hunt, others a fool’s errand.”Elias smirked grimly. “Let them call it what they will. Truth would only bring panic.” He turned from the view. “Are the horses ready?”Caldus nodded. “Provisioned and armored. A quiet departure, just as you ordered.”Maren arrived then, his cloak drawn tight, shadows clinging to him as thoug

The chamber was colder than the mountain winds outside. Elias felt it the moment he stepped into the Oracle’s sanctum. Stone pillars leaned like crooked teeth, carved with symbols too ancient for him to understand. A faint light flickered from torches, but most of the room lay in shadow, as though even fire was reluctant to reveal the secrets it housed.At the center, seated upon a low throne of blackened wood, was the Oracle. Her face was veiled, her hands clasped together, fingers thin as bird bones. She did not move when Elias entered. She did not need to—her presence pressed on his chest heavier than any blade.“You sought me, heir of a broken crown,” she said, her voice soft yet echoing, as if spoken from many mouths. “But the answers you desire are not yours to claim freely.”Elias’s fists tightened. “Then give me the ones I need. The kingdom bleeds, and I cannot stand idle while shadows tear it apart.”The Oracle tilted her head, the veil shifting slightly. Beneath, Elias glimp

The throne room breathed with whispers before Elias even stepped inside. The council chamber, with its tall stained glass and banners still bearing his father’s crest, should have felt like a sanctuary of order. Instead, it pulsed like a pit of snakes. Nobles leaned close to one another, whispering with smirks, their jeweled fingers tapping against the polished table as though keeping time with Elias’s heartbeat.“His Majesty enters,” the herald’s voice rang out, sharp as a blade.Every head turned. Elias straightened, letting his crimson cloak fall from his shoulders with deliberate weight. He walked the aisle with the poise Seren had drilled into him, chin high, pace unhurried. He could feel Mara’s sharp eyes on him, proud and measuring. Rhys’s heavier steps trailed at his side, a knight’s protective shadow. And Rynna soft-spoken Rynna slipped into her seat with a glance that seemed to see everything yet reveal nothing.Elias lowered himself into the high-backed chair at the head of

The blade gleamed inches from Elias’s chest.Every nerve screamed at him to draw steel, to call Rhys forward, but he forced himself still. Kings did not flinch. Kings did not beg.Rynna’s hand trembled. Her lips pressed together as though she warred with herself. Then just as sudden as she’d raised it she dropped the dagger. The clatter rang louder than any horn.“Majesty,” she whispered, her voice cracking, “I had to. If I didn’t take it, they’d know I was yours.”Mara’s sword was out in a flash, point to Rynna’s throat. “Explain. Now.”Rynna lifted her hands, wide-eyed. “The dagger wasn’t mine. It was placed under my pillow. A message. If I didn’t… if I didn’t carry out their command tonight, they would expose me. I swear it, I am no assassin.”Elias’s heart hammered. The woman stood balanced between salvation and execution. One word from him, and Rhys would cut her down. But her eyes haunted, desperate were not the eyes of a liar.“Who?” Elias demanded. His voice cracked like a whi

The horns of war wailed like dying beasts across the city. The sound clawed through stone, echoing down the marble corridors and into the council chamber where fear had already taken root.Elias stood frozen for a heartbeat, hand resting on the table’s edge, the world narrowing to that single note of alarm.Then instinct returned.“Rhys!” he barked. “Find Captain Neron seal the inner gates. I want every entrance guarded with men we can trust.”Rhys was gone before the sentence finished. The heavy door slammed, shaking the iron bolts.Mara’s sword flashed as she turned to the nobles. “Anyone even breathes Alaric’s name in defense and I’ll carve it from their tongue.”“Enough!” Elias snapped. His voice rang across the chamber, steel without shouting. “Fear serves only Alaric now. None leaves this room until we know what we face.”Lord Sera’s face had gone pale. “Majesty, the horns does that mean invasion?”Elias’s jaw tightened. “It means Alaric moves. Whether his hand or his pawn, the