Whispers in the Royal Court
Down the far end of the long hall, under a resplendent arch and bordered by blue-silver banners, were the enormous double doors of the Royal Court.
Behind them… lay the King.
And why all the noble hearts in Moonstone had been invited.
Leon remained motionless, golden eyes set on the doors as if learning the very pulse of the kingdom. The shining wood glinted in the gentle torchlight, every rune etched into its grain reflecting sparks of magic. The air was hushed here, near worship. Distant behind him, the sounds of courtiers and footsteps dissipated, leaving only the soft ripple of banners above.
He breathed slowly, the air making little more than a whisper, but heavy with remembrance and responsibility, with duty. His heart beat steadily—not with fear, but firmly, conscious of the seriousness of the moment.
