Aliena had never been afraid of corridors but tonight, the palace felt different.
Too quiet.
Too watchful.
The summons had come without explanation. No seal. No written decree. Just a royal guard at her door and a simple sentence,
'The Council requests your presence.
Requests.'
That word meant nothing in a palace.
She walked anyway.
Chin lifted. Back straight.
The doors to the Council Hall loomed ahead, taller than she remembered, darker somehow. The torches flanking them burned blue at the base, a detail she had never noticed before.
When the doors opened...
The air changed.
Thicker.
Heavier.
The chamber was full.
Not just ministers. Not just advisors.
Strangers.
Men cloaked in charcoal robes stitched with silver thread in symbols she did not recognize. Women seated among them with rigid posture and eyes too sharp to belong to courtiers.
Scrolls. Ancient books. Wax seals broken open.
This was not a political session.
This was ritual.
Her pulse stumbled.
