The bell in Saint Varyn’s tower rang the way bad news always did. Slowly, deliberately, and without apology.Alina of Brackenmere hovered around the edge of the herb garden, her fingers still wrapped around a stem of basil. The leaves were warm from the sun, their scent sharp and clean, but the sound of the bell cut through everything else. It moved over the palace walls and into the city beyond, heavy enough to settle in her chest.Three tolls.Not a celebration. Not a funeral.A summons.She did not need anyone to tell her what that meant.Beyond the low stone wall, the palace rose in pale tiers, its windows catching the morning light like watchful eyes. From a distance, it looked strong. Up close, it always felt tired. The banners were clean and the courtyards swept, yet something unseen weighed the air. The kingdom felt stretched thin, as though it had been holding its breath for years and was running out of air.Beside her, Mara clicked her tongue softly.“They rang it for you,”
Last Updated : 2026-01-26 Read more