"The calm is a deception. You must assume that every man dedicated to the perimeter is a man being diverted from the center."
The morning sun, now fully risen above the White Fang Peaks, cast a pale, anxious gold across the Royal Inner Court Chambers. It was officially sunrise, the hour Vorath had set for the assassination. My blood ran cold, matching the cold magic of the ancient stone under my robes. I was already present, having managed to press my way into the security briefing Alaric had called. I cited an "urgent, unquantifiable spiritual disturbance," a carefully chosen phrase that sounded like prophetic Seer protocol yet accurately conveyed the chaos burning in my core. I did not care about protocol; I cared about keeping every soul in the Northern Kingdom alive, starting with the two men at the heart of the Crown and the Law: Alaric and Elias.
