The early morning sunlight bathed Winter's Crown in a warm glow, but within the palace, shadows lingered. The city had survived another night, its gates held against the mercenaries Harwin had sent. Yet the air was heavy with the knowledge that the fight was far from over.
Damien stood in the war room, his steel-gray eyes fixed on the map spread across the table. His allies, Amara and Carys, flanked him, their expressions as grim as his.
"Harwin won't wait long to act again," Damien said, his tone steady but laced with urgency. "The attack on the northern gate failed, but he still has resources. The smugglers at the docks are his next play."
Amara smirked faintly, her sharp blue eyes gleaming. "Smugglers are predictable. They'll take the easiest route, probably through the warehouses near the eastern docks. We could intercept them there."
