The council chamber of Nacrifa was built to make even the bravest men feel small.
Tall pillars of black stone stretched toward a ceiling painted with scenes of ancient wars and forgotten victories. Sunlight slipped through towering stained-glass windows, casting patches of red, gold, and violet across the polished marble floor. The long council table, carved from a single slab of dark oak, stood in the center of the chamber like the heart of a battlefield. Maps were spread across it—maps of borders, trade routes, distant territories. Ink bottles, scrolls, and official seals cluttered the space where strategy and politics quietly shaped the fate of kingdoms.
At the very end of the hall, raised slightly above the council floor, stood the throne of Nacrifa.
But the throne was empty.
The King had not attended the meeting.
Instead, seated just below the throne, in the chair reserved for the royal heir, was the Crown Prince.
Sebastian.
