The King Who Will Not Kneel
Aurelian's voice sounded, filling every inch of the great hall, relentless, like a tempest crashing against stone.
"Better to die on the field of battle with steel in our hands than to decay behind walls, whimpering like curs!"
The phrases snapped through the air, hot and absolute, loaded with a truth no one dared to challenge. His voice was not merely sound—it was iron, it was blood, it was fire.
This kingdom was not forged in fear," Aurelian bellowed, his gold-hued eyes blazing as they raked over the quivering council. "It was forged in conquest, in sacrifice, in the blood of men who would not bend. And so long as I occupy this throne—Moonstone shall not bend!
