"Get the archers up! Now! They need to be in position before the first torch is thrown! And reinforce the eastern wall—there's a weak spot near the—"
"Relax, Ethan."
King Damon's voice cuts through Ethan's barking orders like a blade—calm, effortless, but impossible to ignore.
Ethan spins, looking like he's about to snap back, but when he meets the king's cool gaze, he exhales sharply and drags a hand through his dark hair. "This isn't the time to be telling me to relax, Your grace."
King Damon's lips curve into something that might be a smirk, but his eyes remain unreadable. "If you don't relax, you'll be too tense to react when it really matters."
Ethan lets out a quiet growl but doesn't argue. He rolls his shoulders, muttering something under his breath before turning back to the enforcers.
I watch them from the high wall, my fingers curling around the rough stone.