The King sat rigidly on his throne, his knuckles tightening on the carved arms of the seat as his eyes bore into the kneeling figure before him. His voice, though calm, carried a weight that silenced every corner of the chamber.
"You will answer truthfully," the King said, each word measured and cold. "Was the poisoning of my son part of your schemes?"
The crippled grandmaster lowered his head, shame flickering across his weathered face. "Yes, Your Majesty," he replied. His voice was hoarse from fear and from the weight of what he was about to confess. "It was one of the objectives. I did not know who carried out the task directly, I was not given names. But... I received the same scroll as the others involved. The instructions were clear."
The King's jaw clenched. "What did it say?"
