"Monsters are not born, they are crafted in silence, sharpened by necessity, and unleashed by men who fear losing power."
CHANCELLOR MAELIS CRANE POV
The chamber was cold, though firelight licked at the stone hearth like it was trying to gnaw its way out. I liked it that way, cold kept the mind sharp, stripped away comfort. And comfort was an enemy when secrets were on the table. The long oak table was already set for a war council, maps scattered with black-inked markers, pins marking border watch stations, scrawled notes about troop movements, and the darker slips of parchment coded reports from the underground network. I traced one of them with my fingertip. A single name underlined twice: Elias Blackthorne.
