For hours, the court debated. Pride warred with pragmatism.
Then, like ice cracking underfoot, Queen Alira spoke:
"Let it be done."
The terms were struck.
The Royal Herald would rise alongside SK News, dressed in elegance and tradition, armed with parchment laced in gold. Royal scribes would report sanctioned events, distribute decrees, and "clarify" controversial issues.
But Sharath walked away with control intact.
His engineers would oversee the Herald's construction, but its content would never stain the name SK. It would live or die on its own.
As the presses rolled for the Crown's newest mouthpiece, nobles toasted victory.
But outside, the people weren't waiting.
They had already chosen.