Keiser's eyes narrowed, recalling what he had already told them a day ago. The warning had been simple, but heavy enough to silence even Lenko's endless chatter.
After the mass, that's when it begins.
The first spark that would set the capital ablaze would be struck after the morning mass, the very one the princess herself would lead.
The memory pressed in, sharp and vivid. He hadn't learned this from rumor. Keiser hadn't lived it himself, he had only heard it spoken in fragments, pieced together from Olga's words.
When he had stood in the royal brigade, stationed around the palace walls in the name of protecting the king. Back then, threats against the capital had already been whispered, shadows creeping close, though no one knew when they would break open. What they did know, what had been spoken of in hushed tones, was that the Sixth Princess stood at the heart of it.
