Alaric stood outside his mansion, the early morning air cool against his skin as he surveyed the quiet surroundings. The events of the past days weighed heavily on his mind. The Hargroves had managed to rally rogue families, making them a more formidable threat. Yet, despite the growing tension, there was a moment of stillness now—an eerie calm before the inevitable storm.
He adjusted the collar of his jacket and turned toward Gilbert, who stood nearby, waiting for Alaric's instructions.
"Gilbert," Alaric began, his voice steady but laced with a subtle edge of concern. "Has there been any news since yesterday?"
Gilbert shook his head. "Nothing new, Master Alaric. The city is unusually quiet. No movement from the Hargroves or the rogue families they've gathered."
Alaric narrowed his eyes, deep in thought. "That doesn't sit well with me. They're planning something. They wouldn't rally support for nothing."
