Morning came heavy over Carreon's royal court.
No music played. No banners fluttered. The air was thick with silence.
Nobles stood in tight rows, their robes still, eyes flicking toward the doors. Generals and advisors whispered in low voices, their expressions cautious.
At the far end of the hall, King Belmont sat with his hands folded, lips tight.
Mikaela stood at his side, dressed in silver and blue robes. She did not speak. Her posture was straight, but her hands trembled slightly beneath her sleeves.
Everyone had heard the news.
An envoy from Velcro was coming.
The kingdom of the dead. The land ruled by King Azar Mandela, the necromancer king feared across the sea.
Velcro had remained quiet for months after the failed wedding.
But today, that silence would break.
And no one expected the one who would carry the message.
BANG!
The tall doors creaked open.
A cold wind slipped through the hall.
And then he walked in.
Lord Drako.
