The dawn that broke over the King's castle was devoid of warmth, painting the massive stone fortress in bleak shades of gray and pale blue.
As the royal black carriage finally rolled through the towering iron gates, the heavy screech of metal echoed like a warning. Dozens of the King's elite guards stood in rigid formation along the courtyard, their silver armor gleaming under the weak morning light, their hands resting heavily on the hilts of their broadswords. The air here was different—thick with political malice and the constant, suffocating threat of the gallows.
