The king's hall was quiet that evening, the kind of quiet that made every small sound feel louder.
I sat at the head of the long table, one elbow propped on the armrest, listening to the castle steward finish his report.
"…and the kitchen staff say the well in the lower courtyard has been making noises again, sire. Not the usual water drip. More like… voices. Low moans, sometimes a child crying.
They refuse to fetch water after dark now. The maids are scared, the cooks are grumbling, and even the guards won't go near it alone."
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "Voices. Again."
"Yes, sire. Same as last winter. We thought it was rats or wind in the old stones, but. "
"But the rats don't cry like children," I finished. I glanced around the table.
My wives and consorts were already there. Kalia leaning back with her arms crossed, Sarah picking at a loose thread on her sleeve.
