17-5-1561 WC
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The rain had not stopped for three days.
A cold, salt-laced wind swept through the eastern coast of the Vengal Kingdom, lashing the dark stone walls of Stormhall Keep — Prince Kaen's fortress and the stronghold of the reformist faction.
A foreign ship had docked in the hidden cove beneath the keep, bearing no flag, only the imperial seal of the Bernard Empire carved discreetly into its stern.
In the great chamber of the keep, Prince Kaen sat at the long oaken table, flanked by his trusted officers and a few of his father's former ministers — those who had secretly defected to his cause. Across from him stood the messenger of the Empire: a tall, clean-shaven man in a slate-grey officer's coat, its gold trim glinting beneath the firelight.
