THE DUKE'S FORBIDDEN PROPHECY
He waits, hands still, gaze fixed on what lies beneath the threads she holds.
“Yes,” Paige says, turning to him. “A Lord Protector. Not a king. A first among equals, chosen by the council of stewards for a term. Their duty: to enforce the charter, to lead in defense, to ensure no region exploits another.” She looks at me. “A protector.”
One moment it fits, then the space settles. This isn’t about bloodlines or legacy. What stands here is meant to answer questions, not inherit them. Not an ending, but something shaky leading forward - out of what was broken, toward what might be.
Bab Populer