The great halls of Winter's Crown were colder than usual, the lingering chill of early winter settling into the stone walls. Damien walked briskly through the corridors, his steel-gray eyes focused as he made his way to the council chamber. The recent victories against the merchant guilds and rebellious nobles had bought the kingdom some breathing room, but the cracks were far from healed.
Amara and Carys flanked him as they entered the chamber, the heavy doors creaking open to reveal a room filled with murmurs and tension. The nobles, seated in their ornate chairs, looked up as Damien entered, their gazes wary. The king sat at the head of the table, his expression unreadable, while Lady Erynn stood at his side, her silver eyes sharp.
Damien's gaze swept the room before he took his place. "Let's begin," he said, his voice calm but firm.
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The Council Meeting