– The Messenger's Burden
The messenger staggered out of the great hall, the Sovereign's decree still ringing in his ears. The air outside was sharp, tasting of frost and fear. He clutched his satchel tighter, though it had been emptied—searched, violated. Still, he felt as if secrets clung to him, invisible but heavy.
Every corridor seemed to echo with watching eyes. The guards' boots clicked behind him, too close, too steady. He knew he was being followed, tested. The Sovereign's silence had not spared him; it had shackled him.
At the gates, the baron's steward appeared, tall and lean, cloaked in shadow. "The edict changes everything," he whispered, blocking the path. "If you value breath, messenger, you will choose where your silence truly lies."
The messenger's heart pounded. He saw two paths: one back to the Sovereign's iron grip, the other toward the baron's dangerous promise. Either way, betrayal would bloom.
But as he looked past the steward, into the labyrinthine streets beyond, he realized something deeper: the letter he had carried was only the beginning. There were others like him—silent couriers, smuggling truths under the Crown's blindfold. If he vanished now, their cause would vanish with him.
He straightened, though his knees trembled. "I carry silence, yes," he said, voice low but steady, "but not the kind your master seeks. Tell him this—some words refuse to die."
The steward's smile was thin as a blade. "Then you've chosen your side."
Shadows stirred around them. The hunt had begun.