The next morning.
The throne room of Velmoria's palace was heavy with velvet silence.
Moonlight, pale and reluctant, streamed through tall windows, spilling over nobles seated in gilded chairs. Yet despite the grandeur, unease clung to the air like smoke.
At the head of the chamber sat Velric, the new king.
His posture was straight, his crown polished, and his robes immaculate—but his eyes betrayed him. Wide, cautious, shifting often toward the figure who leaned casually against the throne's right arm.
It was Raven.
His crimson gaze scanned the room with the detached calm of a man who had already decided every move on the board.
Beside him, Selena stood like a shadow in silk, serene, her sapphire eyes quiet flames.
Clara, poised and steady, mirrored his calm, while Siris twirled a dagger with absent delight, her grin making nearby nobles pale.
