(Magnus POV)
The messenger arrived at dawn, his horse lathered with sweat and foam. I knew before he spoke that the news would be catastrophic. No man rides his mount to near death unless the message he carries could start or end a war.
"Your Majesty," the young rider gasped, falling to one knee in my private chambers. "King Edmund of the Eastern Kingdom sends word. He marches with ten thousand men. He will be at our borders within a fortnight."
My blood turned to ice in my veins. Ten thousand men. Edmund had mobilized his entire army, not just a ceremonial escort or a small force for show. This was preparation for war, real war, the kind that would leave both our kingdoms in ruins.
"What are his demands?" I asked, though I already knew the answer would be impossible to meet.
