The day after Prince Aldric's departure was the quietest Lex had ever seen the palace.The corridors, usually bustling with servants and guards and advisors rushing to their duties, felt almost empty. The voices that did echo off the stone walls were hushed, as if everyone was afraid of being overheard. Even the torches seemed to burn lower, their flames casting longer shadows than usual.No messengers arrived with urgent news. No advisors argued in the council chamber. The great hall, where the king had received Aldric just yesterday, stood empty and silent.Lex spent the morning training with Cedric and the other knights in the palace courtyard.The sun was warm on his back—a rare comfort in these uncertain days. The sound of steel against steel rang out across the stones, punctuated by grunts of effort and the occasional curse when someone took a hit they should have blocked. Cedric was a patient teacher, correcting Lex's stance, adjusting his grip, showing him how to pivot on his

The council chamber had finally quieted.The mud that had been Theron Vane still glistened on the stone floor near the center of the room, a dark, wet reminder of what had just happened. Servants had been summoned to clean it, but they hesitated near the door, unwilling to step closer, their buckets and rags clutched in trembling hands. The advisors had returned to their seats, though they sat stiffly, their backs straight, their eyes darting toward the door, toward the windows, toward any place where another grey warrior might appear.No one spoke. The fire crackled in the hearth. A log shifted, sending sparks up the chimney.King Magnus sat at the head of the table, his face unreadable. His fingers drummed on the arm of his throne—once, twice, three times—before he finally broke the silence."Send scouts to the borders," he said. His voice was calm, measured, the voice of a man who had made hard decisions before. "Recall every knight who is on leave. I want our defenses ready by nig

The mud monsters closed in from all sides.Their featureless faces turned toward the living, their clawed hands reaching, their bodies dripping with wet earth that smelled of decay and old death. They moved slowly but steadily, their feet squelching in the mud, their arms swinging in jerky, unnatural motions.The knights stood in a tight circle, backs together, swords raised. Sir Marik's hands were shaking so badly his sword trembled. Dame Elara's knuckles were white on her hilt. Sir Aldus breathed heavily, his grey beard flecked with sweat. Even Cedric, steady as stone, looked uncertain.Sera stood at the edge of the circle, her bow raised, an arrow nocked but not fired. Her eyes darted from monster to monster, counting, assessing."There's too many," she said. "We can't fight them all.""Then what do you suggest?" Cedric asked."I don't know. But standing here isn't working."Lex swung his sword at the nearest monster. The blade passed through its torso, splitting it in two with a w

Lust stood at the edge of the clearing, her green eyes glowing in the darkness, her smile wide and confident. The moonlight caught her pale skin, making her look almost ethereal, almost beautiful. Almost human.She looked at Lex, then at Cedric, then back at Lex. Her gaze lingered on each of them, slow and deliberate, as if she was savoring something."You're both so strong," she said, her voice dripping with honey. It was the kind of voice that promised things—warmth, comfort, pleasure. The kind of voice that was hard to say no to. "So capable. So... useful."She took a step closer. Her bare feet made no sound on the dead grass. The hem of her tattered dress brushed against the ground, stirring up small clouds of dust."I could give you anything," she continued. "Women. Men. Whatever you desire. Name it, and it's yours."Cedric's jaw tightened. His hand didn't move from his sword, but his knuckles were white on the hilt. His face was hard, unreadable."I'm not interested," he said.L

Cedric stared at the words on the wall.The blood had dried now, dark and crusted, flaking at the edges. But the message was still clear. You should have accepted my offer. The letters seemed to pulse in the dim light of the lounge, mocking him, daring him to do something.He couldn't move.His sword lay on the floor where it had fallen. His hands hung limp at his sides. His face was pale—not the pale of fear, but the pale of shock, of disbelief, of a man whose world had just been shattered. His eyes were fixed on the wall, unblinking.Lord Ashworth was still weeping on the couch. His shoulders shook with each sob. His wife held him, her arms wrapped tight around him, her own face wet with tears. Their grief filled the silence, soft and broken, a sound that seemed to echo off the walls.Servants peeked through doorways, their faces pale, their hands trembling. Guards stood in the corners, their eyes downcast, ashamed. No one knew what to say. No one knew what to do.Lex stood beside C