Chapter 48 The Price Of The Crown

• The torchlight flickered across the stone walls as Kael walked through the ancient corridor beneath the royal keep. Each step echoed in silence, a hollow sound that whispered back centuries of betrayal, duty, and sacrifice. Elira walked beside him, her hand brushing lightly against his cloak—not seeking comfort, not needing it, but reminding him she was still there. Still with him.
• The weight of the crown hadn’t yet touched his brow, but Kael already felt the weight of it pressing into his bones. There was no longer a war to fight in the shadows. No longer a throne in theory. His father’s death—no, assassination—had left more than a seat to fill. It had left a kingdom bruised and bleeding, looking to Kael with eyes desperate for salvation, for strength, for something more than what they had known.
• “Will you go through with it?” Elira’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet it clung to the cold walls with piercing clarity.