A king in gold armor and crown stands beside his general and a red-haired woman at a grand medieval feast table.

At his side stood Lord Kael, his most trusted general, the man who had led armies across deserts and seas in Maelor’s name. To all who looked upon them, the bond seemed unbreakable: king and general, master and blade. But Kael’s eyes had grown colder with each triumph, his silence longer with each celebration. Where once he had knelt with pride, now he bowed only from habit, his heart carrying a weight heavier than armor. The seed of betrayal took root during a feast, when goblets clashed and the hall burned with song. The king laughed, boasting of victories as though he alone had carved them into history. He dismissed Kael’s sacrifice as though it were a servant’s duty, a mere extension of his will. And when the king’s daughter, Lysandra, raised her glass to her father, Kael caught her gaze. She looked at him with fire—resentful of the throne that bound her and curious of the man who might break it. See more