All Mine.

Aurora had long drifted into slumber, but Stephen lay awake, a strange unease settling over him. Something was amiss—he could feel it, though he knew not what. With a quiet sigh, he slipped from the bed, stepping outside to breathe in the crisp night air, hoping it might lull him into rest. 

The moon hung heavy in the sky, silver light bathing the land in an ethereal glow. As he gazed upon it, a flutter of wings broke the silence. A pigeon. His brows furrowed. Zayd only sent messages this way when matters were dire. 

Catching the bird with ease, he removed the small scroll fastened to its leg and unfurled it. 

The High Judicature are here, and no, they did not come with good intentions. It would be wise to steer clear of the palace for now—unless you have a way to prove yourself innocent. Find a way to quell this storm.