The Aldwyn royal castle was built upon centuries of stone and silence. Its high towers pierced the pale morning sky like spears raised against heaven, and the long corridors breathed with the weight of history cold marble, tapestries of battles long gone, the faint scent of incense clinging to the air as though to mask the rot beneath the grandeur.
But that morning, the silence was shattered.
A scream raw, shrill, and desperate ripped through the still air.
"AHHHHHHHHH!"
The echo resounded like a banshee's cry, carrying down the stone halls, bouncing off iron doors and stained glass windows. The guards patrolling nearby froze mid-step, their helmets gleaming under torchlight, and without waiting for orders, they rushed toward the direction of the sound. Boots thundered against the marble, weapons clinking at their sides, breaths ragged as dread gripped their hearts.
It was from the prince's chamber.
