CHAPTER 148
The hall was lit and silent. Servants set the benches and extinguished stray candles until only the high lamps burned. The carved doors opened on the hour, and the councillors filed in with measured steps, robes folding along the stone. The room held itself to formality: a floor polished, banners hung straight, and the bench at the head kept clear until the King took her seat.
Grace entered last. She moved with the same deliberate pace she used for every public moment, but today the steadiness in her face was tighter. She took the high chair and paused, letting the chamber come to order. Heads bowed. Voices hushed. An usher shut the doors with a sound like a closing verdict.
"Councillors," Grace said. Her tone cut through the quiet. It left no space for softness. "We proceed."
