The morning after the Grand Hall collapse was not quiet.
The blood of the Northern specialist, Gru, had been scrubbed from the stone floors. In the hallways, the air was fractured. People walked in small groups, whispering behind their hands.
The Northern generals were not whispering. They were shouting. Their voices echoed through the stone corridors, demanding an inquiry. They wanted heads to roll. The Duke of Valen was right there with them, adding fuel to the fire. He was whispering to anyone who would listen that the South had sabotaged the demonstration. He hinted that Elias had caused the overload on purpose to protect his job.
Rumors spread through the kitchens and the barracks like a sickness. They said the Southern Asset was a monster. They said he had murdered a Northern guest in cold blood.
Usually, when a scandal hit, the palace would distance itself from the Asset. They would lock him away. But this morning was different.
