Three months.
That was how long Aldric Rovenwale had worn the Crown of Iron.
Three months since the throne had changed hands.
Three months since the kingdom had shifted from uncertain rule to rigid order.
Under Aldric, the borders were reinforced. The army reorganized. The nobles were reminded of their duties.
Rovenwale had become stronger.
And heavier.
Yet even the strongest fortress could still face the impossible.
The Iron Council Chamber lay deep within the royal palace.
Black stone walls rose high around the chamber, threaded with veins of iron and ancient warding sigils carved centuries ago. Massive pillars surrounded the room, each engraved with the history of Rovenwale's kings.
At the center stood a circular table of polished dark stone.
Seated at its head was King Aldric.
The Crown of Iron rested upon his brow.
The jagged circlet seemed to swallow the torchlight around it, casting dark shadows across his stern expression.
The weight of the crown was not merely symbolic. Even the powerful nobles gathered within the chamber could feel its presence.
Around the table stood the most influential men in the kingdom.
The leaders of the three great houses of Rovenwale.
To the king's right stood Duke Garron Dravenhart.
A broad-shouldered veteran whose face carried the scars of countless battles. Even in age, he held himself like a man ready to return to the battlefield at any moment.
Beside him stood his son and heir.
Valen Dravenhart.
Short black hair framed a disciplined expression. Steel-gray eyes studied the room with the alert focus of a soldier assessing terrain.
Across the table stood Marquis Cedric Ardenveil.
Unlike the others, Cedric's posture was calm and composed, the bearing of a man who preferred strategy over brute force.
Beside him stood his son.
Rowen Ardenveil.
Dark hair rested neatly across his forehead, his green eyes thoughtful as he listened to every word spoken in the chamber.
Further down the table stood Duke Severin Valcere.
Silver threaded through his dark hair, and his gaze held the quiet calculation of a man who studied people more often than swords.
At his side stood his heir.
Lucien Valcere.
Silver hair caught the torchlight as he casually read through a report scroll, violet eyes scanning each line with visible interest.
Before them stood the Captain of the Iron Guard.
He finished his report.
"—three unidentified individuals were discovered inside the royal chamber."
Silence settled across the council.
King Aldric spoke.
"Inside my chamber."
It was not a question.
The captain bowed his head.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"The palace barriers were not triggered."
Aldric's gaze sharpened slightly.
"The spatial wards remain intact?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"No intrusion was detected."
Lucien let out a quiet chuckle.
"How remarkable."
Valen spoke immediately.
"They are assassins."
His tone was firm and direct.
"They appeared inside the King's chamber. Their intention is obvious."
Lucien finally looked up from the report.
"Is it?"
Valen's gaze shifted toward him.
Lucien tapped the scroll lightly.
"If they were assassins…"
"…they chose a strange way to act."
His violet eyes moved across the council.
"They revealed themselves immediately and offered no resistance."
The captain nodded slightly.
"They made no attempt to attack."
Rowen spoke next.
"What did they say?"
The captain glanced at the report again.
"They claimed they appeared there without knowing how."
Duke Garron scoffed.
"A convenient lie."
Rowen continued calmly.
"Did they resist arrest?"
"No."
Several nobles exchanged glances.
"They surrendered immediately," the captain added.
Lucien leaned back slightly in his chair.
"How polite."
Valen frowned.
"Or clever."
The captain continued.
"They attempted to explain themselves but did not struggle."
Lucien closed the report scroll.
"We are overlooking the most interesting question."
His violet eyes moved slowly across the council.
"How did they enter the palace?"
Silence followed.
Because there was no answer.
The Iron Palace was protected by some of the strongest defenses on the continent.
Barrier wards.
Spatial anchors.
Detection arrays capable of sensing even the faintest magical disturbance.
Yet three strangers had appeared inside the royal chamber as if those defenses did not exist.
Rowen finally spoke again.
"There is another possibility."
Lucien tilted his head slightly.
"Oh?"
Rowen met the king's gaze.
"They did not bypass the defenses."
Lucien's faint smile faded.
Rowen continued.
"They were placed inside."
The weight of those words settled across the chamber.
Even Duke Severin's expression sharpened.
If someone could place people directly inside the palace—
Then the legendary defenses of Rovenwale meant nothing.
After a moment, Severin spoke.
"There is one power known for moving through space without leaving a trace."
Several nobles exchanged glances.
"The Crown of Tides," Garron muttered.
Severin inclined his head.
"The power of Thalassa."
Everyone in the chamber understood the implication.
A Vassal of the Crown of Tides could treat space like flowing water. Distance and barriers meant little to them.
A skilled vessel could fold space itself.
Even into a royal palace.
King Aldric remained silent for several moments.
Then he spoke.
"Assassins do not surrender."
His voice was calm but absolute.
"And spies do not appear in plain sight."
No one interrupted.
"They may be lying," Aldric continued.
"But they are not fools."
His gaze turned toward the captain.
"Were they afraid?"
The captain considered the question carefully.
"…Confused, Your Majesty."
"Not aggressive."
Aldric leaned back slightly.
"If someone can place strangers inside this palace…"
His voice hardened slightly.
"…then our concern lies elsewhere."
The chamber fell silent again.
Then Aldric stood.
The movement alone carried authority.
"Bring them to me."
Valen straightened immediately.
Lucien smiled faintly.
Rowen nodded thoughtfully.
Far beneath the palace…
Inside a prison cell forged from black iron…
Three prisoners sat quietly in the dim torchlight.
Unaware that the king of Rovenwale had already decided to meet them.
And that their sudden appearance had begun to shake the certainty of the Iron Kingdom.