The last Decree

The sky over the kingdom was an endless canvas of azure as King Arion sat in his chambers, quill in hand, staring down at the parchment in front of him. His brow was furrowed, deep lines of age and worry etched into his once regal face. He had been awake for hours, wrestling with the decision he knew he had to make. Time was slipping through his fingers like sand, and though his daughters were still young, the weight of the future pressed on him relentlessly.

He dipped the quill into ink, his hands trembling as he began to write. Each word felt like a nail driven into the coffin of his reign, but it was the only thing he could do to ensure peace—at least for now. He had already failed his wives, and guilt had consumed him for years. But his daughters, were his last hope.

"They must rule together," he muttered to himself. "Only together can they keep the balance."