The letter bore the royal seal of Kaltharion, the mark of the Bear, pressed deep into crimson wax. The emperor broke it open, half expecting another hollow plea for leniency or grain. Instead, the neat, deliberate script bled arrogance between every stroke.
It began innocently enough: a request for a physician. Gaston, the prince of Kaltharion, is gravely ill, it said. We beg the Emperor's grace to send a healer of Vaeloria's renown. The emperor might have granted it, had it ended there. But it didn't.
The next paragraph made his eyes narrow. Gaston, they claimed, was the rightful heir, not Leroy. They wrote, without shame or restraint, that years ago, when assassins hunted the royal nursery, the infants were switched. Leroy, the decoy child, was presented to the Vaelorian envoys as the "Crown Prince of Kaltharion," while the true heir, Gaston, was hidden away.
