The Beggar’s Throne

Chapter Eighty One

Reeva approached, her footsteps careful on the gravel. She held a small datapad, fingers tapping an impatient rhythm.

"They’re asking about next steps," she said, eyes sharp. "Messages from the east corridor, the south sectors—they want clarity."

Jake didn’t turn to look at her.

"Clarity is the last thing they need right now," he said quietly. "What they need is space."

Reeva frowned. "Space can feel like silence. And silence breeds rumors, suspicion."

"Better that than rules written before the people speak," Jake replied. "They’ve been told what to want for so long that no one remembers how to ask."

Behind them, a faint murmur of voices rose from a gathering crowd. People from the outer districts, from forgotten zones long abandoned by the old governments, were coming together again. Not as subjects or rebels, but as neighbors.

Lina stepped forward, wiping dirt from her hands, her gaze steady. She carried a folded map, edges worn.

"They’re asking for a meeting," Lina said. "Not anoth