The dawn came quietly to Winter's Crown, its golden light stretching across the city's cobbled streets and illuminating the towering spires of the palace. Yet, for all its beauty, the morning felt heavy with unspoken tension. The trial and sentencing of Lord Harwin had left the court shaken, the cracks in its unity exposed for all to see.
Damien stood in the courtyard as the preparations for Harwin's execution were carried out. The scaffold had been erected in the city square, a stark reminder of the consequences of treason. Soldiers moved about in grim efficiency, their armor glinting in the morning light.
Beside him, Carys stood silent, her green eyes scanning the courtyard. Amara leaned against a nearby pillar, her sharp blue eyes narrowed in thought.
"This feels… different," Carys said softly, breaking the silence.
