The Throned Crown

eeked of ash and death, the cries of his people still echoing in his ears. It had been five years, but the nightma

hem pay. Every

disgusted him. Gold-lined walls, tapestries threaded with silver, chandeliers glittering with jewels-such riches had been stolen

nd now a trusted emissary sent to negotiate peace between warring factions. A lie, of course. His mi

ame sooner t

commanding. Aelric turned, his breath hitc

el Al

old and unyielding as the rumors claimed. Dressed in black and gol

se

ic couldn't place but felt like a dagger twisting in his chest. He hated it. Hated the way those eyes pinned

l said, his voice smooth but laced wit

ite smile. "Your Hi

smile?-but the moment passed, and the prin

eeting," Cassiel continued. "Thalor doesn't trust

and deliberate. "I would expec

e'd imagined this moment for years, rehearsed every step of his plan. Yet now

nce's haunted eyes stirred something in him-something that felt dangerously like pit

ople, he would become

s who spoke in riddles and lies. The weight of their stares didn't faze him-he

advisors bickered. His long fingers tapped against the wood, the sound

ic Th

All eyes turned to Aelric, but it was t

l, but his words sharp as a blade. "Tell me, Gener

d to measure his loyalty. But he couldn't give himself aw

weed. Pull it out by the roots,

intest hint of a smirk. "Spok

ts fluid and commanding. He crossed the ro

rous. "But weeds thrive in weak soil. Are you prepared to prove your loya

ut his face remained a mask of calm. "Yo

gray eyes piercing. Then, without warning, he lea

se I don't take kindly to liars, General. And if you are one

emained frozen, his blood running cold. For the first time, he wondered if

ld find himself as much a pawn in Ca