The first attack came fast.
Bravari's men used black powder laced with magic to breach the eastern wing. Fire spread through the guest chambers, screams echoing through the hallways.
Aurelia shielded her stomach instinctively, her magic blooming in pure defense.
Lucien stormed into the chaos like a god of vengeance, tearing through traitors with blades forged from starlight and fury.
They won but at a cost.
Five loyal guards dead. Soraya wounded. The seal protecting the palace cracked. And in the flames, a sigil was scrawled on the wall in ash and bone:
"Long live the old blood."