The night air was cool, and the Imperial Palace lay in quiet stillness. The guards patrolled the halls, their footsteps echoing softly on the marble floors, and the flickering light of torches cast long shadows across the walls.
Prince Aedric sighed as he entered his private chambers, closing the heavy door behind him. It had been a tiring day filled with endless meetings, reports, and political maneuvering. As much as he hated to admit it, Lady Selene was better suited for diplomacy than he was. He preferred action—swords and strategy over words and pleasantries.
Just as he was about to remove his coat and settle into bed, a sudden noise outside his room caught his attention.
Aedric stiffened, his hand instinctively reaching for the sword hanging by his bedside. That wasn't a normal sound. He listened carefully, hearing a faint scuffle, followed by muffled voices.
His grip on the sword tightened. Assassins.