Summoning

Rain drummed gently against the tall windows of the eastern tower, where King Alden had chosen to keep the next meeting quiet. Just a handful of trusted ministers. The war chamber was too loud, too crowded — too leaky.

"Lord Calder has begun requesting access to the court's intelligence records," Alden murmured, fingers pressed together, elbows resting on the arms of his darkwood chair. "He says it's to secure our borders."

"Convenient," said Commander Thorne, his brow creased. "Especially after Lucien's reports were dismissed as 'paranoia'."

Alden didn't flinch, but he remembered the words too well. It had been Calder who urged the court to ignore the early warnings from Lucien's estate. Calder who said Lucien was trying to stir trouble, reclaim relevance.

And now? Caravans gone. Velmora stirring. Whispers of internal sabotage.

Maybe Lucien had seen what others hadn't.

"We can no longer ignore him," Alden muttered.