The palace never truly slept. Even when the lights dimmed and the corridors emptied, the walls seemed to listen — and remember.
That evening an uneasy calm had settled over Ra-Iya's royal court. The banners hung motionless in the humid air, the servants spoke in whispers, and the scent of rain still clung to the halls.
King Ralden sat alone in his study, the the dim light throwing long shadows across his desk. Before him lay a screen.
He read a message once. Then again. And as he did, the The blue screen emitted from the device illuminated his face and caught the look in his eyes — sharp, cold, calculating.
Then the corner of the his lips curled up.
A storm broke before dawn.
By the time the first light crept through the mist, the palace roofs still glistened with rain. Thunder rolled faintly in the distance — a slow, lingering growl that seemed unwilling to let go of the night.
