A heavy silence fell over the chamber. The faint sound of water dripping from the king's wet skin was the only thing breaking the tension. King Aldric slowly sat up, his muscles tensed as he processed the knight's words.
"Dripping… with blood?" His voice was dangerously quiet.
"Y-Yes, Your Majesty," the knight confirmed, his face pale. "It was left at the castle gates, wrapped in black cloth. The guards dared not open it without your command."
The king stood from the water, droplets cascading down his broad frame as a nearby attendant quickly rushed to drape a silk robe over his shoulders. He tied it loosely and stepped forward, his mind filled with several thoughts.
What could it be? King Aldric knew that this was no mere message—it was a statement. Leaving a bloodied package could only mean one thing: someone was declaring war on him.