The moment the fifty iron quarrels dropped dead upon the granite flagstones, the world seemed to hold its breath. On the center span of the Red Stone Bridge, the towering wall of living shadow dissipated in curling tendrils of midnight smoke, revealing King Kaelen Nightshade standing impassive, his broadsword resting sheathed at his hip, his smoky quartz eyes fixed upon the trembling Duke Brandon. Then, Queen Amara stepped her white…
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