CHAPTER 132
Morning broke with little rest. Grace left the archives only when the lamps had gone out, her eyes burning from the long hours of searching. The parchments they had uncovered were secured in her study, locked beneath iron clasp and seal. But their weight pressed against her more heavily than the crown upon her head.
By midday, the council was summoned. Grace entered the chamber without ceremony, her boots echoing against the stone floor. The elders, draped in robes marked with age and authority, turned at her arrival. King Charlenugo sat at the far end, hands clasped before him, expression unreadable.
Grace did not sit at once. She let her eyes move across them, each man and woman who had sworn to uphold truth in the kingdom. She wondered, as Robert's shadow still lingered in her mind, which of them had seen his other face and remained silent.
"Your highness," one of the elders began carefully, "we were not told of today's purpose."
