Winter's Crown sat under a gray sky, the sharp winds whispering of an approaching storm. Within the walls of the palace, the court reconvened to discuss the growing tension across the regions. Although Elyas was dead, his rebellion had left wounds that had yet to heal. His loyalists, though fragmented, were still active in small pockets of the kingdom, creating unrest.
Damien stood at the center of the council chamber, his steel-gray eyes scanning the room as the assembled nobles murmured among themselves. Their faces were a mixture of weariness and defiance. While some had pledged their loyalty to the crown's efforts, others remained hesitant, unwilling to fully relinquish their self-interests.
Lady Erynn entered the room, her silver hair catching the light. She moved with purpose, her presence commanding respect. She glanced at Damien as she took her seat, giving him a brief nod of encouragement.
