Whispers Beneath the Crown
The silence between words felt heavy - just like moments before a storm breaks. Quiet pressed down - not from peace, but tension waiting to snap.
Stillness held everyone in place when Ben sat beneath the high ceiling, back straight, eyes forward. Above, the glow from the hanging lights shook slightly, each tiny swing bringing a sharp ring from the metal bones supporting glass. Not one minister broke posture. Nobody exhaled fully since what came out of the King's mouth moments ago stayed like weight pressing down on every shoulder. Even breath seemed too much.
Out of nowhere, Ben spoke once more - his tone quiet, steady, yet somehow threatening.
"Hold on, say it once more," his voice dropped, gaze tightening.
The Minister of War swallowed, the sound audible in the stillness. "I said, my King… what if the silver they took came from within the kingdom?"
Some looked his way, shocked. Still others fixed their eyes on the ground, acting deaf.
