Saeldir stood frozen. Suddenly his breath turned shallow, his pulse drumming at the base of his throat.
For a long moment, he didn't speak. He just couldn't. The king's words felt too heavy and too unexpected to accept so quickly.
His mind tried to shape the meaning behind them, but all that formed was a tremor of disbelief.
He slowly lowered his gaze, unable to hold King Gulben's eyes anymore.
A cold, unfamiliar weight spread from his chest to his stomach. This was the same kind of weight that came when responsibility shifted into destiny. No matter how many times it happened, Saeldir couldn't get used to it.
He whispered to himself, "That book that is meant only for kings…"
The thought alone made his throat tighten.
He wasn't royal. He wasn't chosen by blood. He wasn't meant to inherit sacred knowledge passed down through countless eras.
He was just an Archmage. A servant of the palace and a protector.
Not a king.
