Aiden's steps echoed down the narrow stone corridor, each strike of his greaves a reminder that armor did not only shield the body—it caged the heart.
The iron scent of sweat and steel clung to him, heavy as guilt. By the time he reached the small room assigned to him, his shoulders ached from the day's burdens and from the truth he carried like a secret flame.
The door creaked shut behind him, muffling the distant clamor of knights and squires. He sat heavily on the straw-matted bed, the wooden frame groaning as though sharing his exhaustion.
Piece by piece he removed the armor: first the gauntlets, then the breastplate, each clang against the floor a punctuation to his thoughts.
The knights of Leonidas… He let the thought linger, sour and sharp. This was no single brotherhood. It was a tangled web of allegiance: the knighthood of two earldoms, four baronhoods, each faction pulling against the others.
