CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

I stride through the castle's imposing doors, my footsteps ringing out against the stone floors with a sense of grim purpose. I don't slow my pace, don't pause to admire the grandeur of the vaulted halls and ornate tapestries adorning the walls. My only thought is to deal with this insurrection from the lords as swiftly and decisively as possible so I can return my focus to what truly matters - scouring every inch of the kingdom for Amelia until she is safely back in my arms.

The guards flanking the throne room's entrance snap to attention as I approach, their movements crisp and precise as they pull the heavy wooden doors open in deference to my presence. As I cross the threshold, the low murmur of conversation dies away, an expectant hush falling over the assembled nobility like a shroud.

I don't spare them more than a cursory glance as I make my way to the center of the throne room. Their faces are a blur of simpering obsequience as they rise as one and bow in greet