The morning sun crawled over Estalis like a pale and wan intruder, its weak light losing a quiet war against the swollen clouds pressing over the kingdom.
Inside the throne hall, however, fire held dominion: gold and crimson banners blazed in the sunlight that filtered through the high windows, their grandeur concealing the unease that rippled through the court.
Courtiers stood in a long, rustling seam along the chamber, voices folding into anxious murmurs. Incense smoke braided with the metallic tang of expectation and something more corrosive — suspicion. It sat heavy in the air, a guest no one would invite and no one could make leave.
