That afternoon, the private meeting chamber in the eastern wing of the palace felt cool, the marble walls channeling streams of chilling magic. King Mathien sat on the high chair, clad in his dark ceremonial robe. Across from him sat a tall man with light brown hair, carrying himself with effortless elegance.
Duke Diego of Scamender—the eldest son of the high noble house that ruled Valtherion's northeastern lands.
"The construction of the northern arcane route will take longer than expected," Mathien said, his tone firm and grave. "If Scamender's lands are to serve as a defensive hub, you must ensure the supply of raw crystals remains stable."
Diego nodded slightly. "Of course, Your Majesty. We've already prepared a new mining route west of the Aelward Mountains. But there's a minor… issue with the local mages—they believe the energy flow is being disturbed."
Mathien raised an eyebrow. "What kind of disturbance?"
