King Aldebrand stood in the grand hall of the imperial palace, his fingers clenching the golden armrest of his throne as his eyes darkened with fury.
The marble floors beneath him gleamed under the light of the celestial chandeliers, but despite the grandeur, an oppressive silence filled the air.
Before him, his most trusted minister knelt, head bowed, waiting for a response. The king's rage was palpable, a storm barely contained within his form.
He had just been given the most alarming news since the start of his reign, his beloved firstborn, Crown Prince Zyvander, had been secretly amassing a private army.
The thought alone sent a sharp pang through his chest.
He had always favored Zyvander, had molded him into a future ruler, given him the best military training, the best tutors, the best resources.
Everything he had done was to ensure that his son would inherit an empire at its strongest.
