The Great Hall of the royal palace was a massive room built from gray stone and dark oak. Huge banners bearing the royal crest hung from the high ceiling. Large windows let in the pale, cold morning light, casting long shadows across the polished marble floor.
It was the morning after the bloody night at the Prince's residence. The court was in full session. The air in the room was incredibly heavy, thick with tension and whispered rumors. Hundreds of nobles, lords, and military generals stood in the hall, dressed in their dark, formal clothes.
At the very front of the hall, sitting on a raised platform made of white stone, was King Alistair the Fourth. The King looked very old today. He wore his heavy golden crown, but his face was deeply lined with sorrow and anger. He was a father who had just learned that his own son, Prince Liam, was a traitor who had murdered his own soldiers and even planned a revolt.
