[Empire—One Month Later]
Whispers carried faster than the wind in the streets of every town, every market, and every noble house. Rumors clung to the air like a persistent fog, chilling the hearts of anyone who dared speak too loudly.
"Have you heard?" a servant murmured, glancing over his shoulder. "The Grand Duke… Silas… they say he's gone mad."
"Mad?" another whispered, pale-faced. "I heard he… he executed House Calder in one night. Every noble in the courtyard… gone. No trial. No mercy. And… they say… they begged for forgiveness."
"Forgiveness?!" the first whispered again. "Ha! They all begged! And he didn't even flinch. One month… one month, and every house that conspired against the throne has felt his wrath. They say he hunts them like wild dogs, tearing apart the treason from the roots!"
In the capital's grand square, merchants spoke in low tones as they hurried past, each repeating what they had heard:
