Solomon and Henry sought out Ezra in private, their minds consumed by the prophecy's ominous warning.
"Ezra, we need to understand the prophecy," Solomon said, his voice low. "This 'Wolf in the Fold' – what does it mean?"
Ezra's eyes clouded, his expression grave. "The prophecy speaks of a hidden enemy within your inner circle, Your Majesties. One who will strike when least expected."
Henry's brow furrowed. "How can we identify this traitor?"
Ezra hesitated. "The ancient texts offer little guidance. But I sense... a connection to the wedding celebration."
Solomon's grip on the armrest tightened. "You think the traitor will strike during the wedding?"
Ezra nodded. "The prophecy implies as much. 'When joy and celebration mask the danger within.'."
Henry's eyes narrowed. "We need to review the guest list, vet every servant. We can't take any chances."
Solomon's jaw clenched. "I'll not let fear dictate our lives, but we must be cautious. Ezra, can you decipher any other clues?"
Ezra's gaze drifted into the distance. "One phrase haunts me... 'The shadow of the past returns, wearing a familiar face.'."
The silence was oppressive, heavy with foreboding.
Henry spoke up, "What does it mean?"
Ezra's eyes refocused. "I'm unsure, but it suggests the traitor may be someone from your past, Your Majesties. Someone you trust."
Solomon's expression turned resolute. "We'll investigate every person close to us. We won't let this prophecy come to pass."
As they departed, Ezra's whispered words lingered:
"May the gods protect you, for the shadows are closing in."
As Solomon and Henry delved deeper into the prophecy, a sudden knock at the door interrupted their discussion.
"Enter," Solomon called out.
A young servant, pale and nervous, stepped forward. "Your Majesty, a message arrived, hidden within a bouquet of flowers."
Solomon's brow furrowed. "From whom?"
The servant hesitated. "The messenger refused to reveal their identity, but... the note bears a symbol."
Henry's eyes narrowed. "What symbol?"
The servant handed Solomon a small parchment. On it, a crude drawing of a crescent moon with an arrow piercing its center.
Solomon's eyes locked onto Henry's. "This symbol... it's from our past."
Henry's expression turned grim. "The Nightwalkers."
Solomon's voice dropped to a whisper. "Our old allies. What could they want?"
The message read:
"Trust no one. The Wolf in the Fold wears many faces. Seek the truth in the shadows of the past."
Solomon's grip on the parchment tightened. "This changes everything."
Henry's eyes scanned the room, his mind racing. "We must investigate the Nightwalkers' involvement."
Solomon nodded. "Discreetly. We can't risk alerting the traitor."
As they pondered the message, Ezra appeared at the door.
"Your Majesties, I've deciphered another clue. The prophecy speaks of a 'lost sibling,' one who holds the key to unlocking the traitor's identity."
Solomon's eyes widened. "A lost sibling? What do you mean?"
Ezra's expression turned somber. "The ancient texts hint at a hidden family member, one who will reveal the truth about the Wolf in the Fold."
Henry's voice trailed off. "But who...?"
The silence was oppressive, heavy with unanswered questions.