The Weight of the Crown
Then, suddenly -
CRASH!
Furious, the King's voice cracked through the air past the doors, harsh like breaking stone. Sharp echoes followed, filling the space before silence rushed back in.
"SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU!"
Falling heavy, the words tore into the center of the room. A silence followed - sharp, unbroken.
Silence dropped through the long room, gold light catching dust as hushed voices cracked apart. Not a word slipped out after that sound passed. Frozen in place, mouths hung open without meaning to. Firelight along the stone edges curled inward, like breath caught too long.
Slowly, each person looked at the throne. Then silence fell across the room.
Stretching across the hall, the red carpet rolled on like a river without end. Toward it crept each step, drawn by the raised platform ahead. There he waited, Ben Lionheart, still as stone. Behind him glowed the throne, spilling gold around his outline. A shadow he became, cut sharp from night.
