The palace felt heavier than ever. The weight of conspiracy lingered in every corridor, every shadowed alcove, as if the stones themselves knew what Farrin and his allies planned. Damien moved through the halls with purpose, his steel-gray eyes scanning every face he passed. Trust was a rare commodity now, and every gesture, every word, felt like it carried double meaning.
The plan was in motion. Damien, Amara, and Carys had laid their pieces on the board, and now it was Farrin's turn to make his move. The game of shadows had reached its climax, and Damien was determined to win.
---
In the safe house, the trio reconvened to finalize their strategy. The table before them was covered in maps, lists of names, and a collection of hastily written reports from the guards and servants who had been subtly recruited to keep watch over the nobles.
