The reports scattered across his study desk painted a picture of cautious success—Lyralei's forces had withdrawn exactly as promised, trade negotiations were proceeding smoothly, and for the first time in weeks, his kingdom wasn't under immediate threat of annihilation.
He should have been relieved. Should have been celebrating with his wives, planning for a future that suddenly seemed possible again. Instead, he sat alone in his study at near midnight, staring at the crystalline fragments scattered before him.
The obsidian crystal that had created the shadow realm. Or what was left of it.
Arthur picked up one of the larger pieces, feeling it pulse weakly in response to his touch. The shadow realm had been a one-time use, Beatrice had said. But the fragments... they still held something. Power. Potential. And lately, they'd been reacting to him in ways that made his skin crawl.
