[Osric's POV—Imperial Palace of Meren]
"...We have checked every street, my lord. The people are still scared. No one dares step outside their homes," Colonel Zerith reported, bowing slightly.
I nodded, fingers tightening behind my back. "Of course they are. Fear takes root faster than trust. No matter how cruel their prince was… they will hesitate to accept a new ruler."
Zerith hesitated. "What should we do, my lord?"
I opened my mouth. The answer should have been simple. Tactical. Practical. But the words that left my lips were—
"Trust… is gained slowly. Not instantly. So—"
I stopped.
Mid-sentence.
As if someone punched the breath out of my lungs. The realization slammed into me so fast I forgot how to breathe.
"My lord?" Zerith stepped closer. "Are you alright?"
I forced myself to inhale—slow, strained.
"…Continue inspections," I ordered quietly. "Every street, every alley. And assign knights for night duty. I want the city under control."
