The King of Praylor sat in the grand chamber, his fingers tapping a slow, measured rhythm against the polished wood of his desk. The letter from Lucian lay before him, its words clear and deliberate, but not nearly enough to ease his concerns.
Aldric Velthorne had ruled long enough to recognize when someone was stalling. And his son - his heir, was doing exactly that.
A deep sigh left him as he leaned back, glancing toward the high windows. The sun was barely beginning to rise, casting long streaks of gold across the stone floor. He had been awake most of the night, weighing his options, considering his next move.
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
"Enter."
The doors swung open, revealing General Rhyden, a man who had served the crown for decades, his loyalty unquestionable. The older man bowed his head before stepping forward.
