CHAPTER 159
The chamber filled again by dawn. A faint drizzle washed over the palace windows, painting the morning in grey streaks that deepened the mood. Grace sat at the head of the long table, her crown resting lightly on the dark curls that had escaped their hold overnight. Around her, the council had gathered—Mathew Sterrn, Councillor Honest, Councillor Vera, and the remaining elders—each holding sealed reports and parchments brought in through the night.
The chest from the previous day remained on the table. Its lock was broken, the contents already transferred into neat piles before Grace. Every document, every seal, had been rechecked, matched, and cross-examined.
Vera stood first, voice clear but trembling slightly.
"The original parchment from the treasury archives has been brought, Your Majesty."
She placed it on the table and unrolled it carefully. The thick parchment gave off the faint scent of dust and age, the handwriting dense and precise.
