Chapter 1
Chapter 1
The bright March sun filtered through the multicolored stained-glass windows of the cathedral of Morgath, bathing the stone naves in shades of crimson, cobalt, and gold. A murmur of restrained anticipation rippled through the pews packed with nobles, ambassadors, and representatives from all the provinces of the realm.
At the high altar, before the Great Patriarch, Alistair and Catherine remained kneeling on purple velvet cushions. The young king wore a white tunic embroidered with silver thread and the crown's grand ceremonial cloak; beside him, Catherine looked splendid in a light silk gown that caught the morning light. When the patriarch raised the double golden crown above their heads and pronounced the ancestral blessing, the cheers of the people erupted outside the temple, echoing against the heavy granite walls and vibrating through the citadel's bell towers.
As they stood, now invested as the sovereigns of Morgath, Alistair sought his wife's hand and squeezed it warmly. Catherine met his gaze with a genuine smile, filled with hope for the future they were beginning to build together.
At the foot of the altar steps, Lord Vance stood erect like an iron statue. He wore mirror-polished breastplate armor, his hand resting firmly on the hilt of his dress sword. Seeing the new monarchs turn to face the crowd, genuine pride swelled in his chest; for the captain, seeing his childhood friend crowned alongside a noble queen was the promise of an era of peace worth giving his life for.
A few paces behind, in the shadow of the transept's great column, the Lord Chancellor observed the scene leaning on his staff of office. The elderly diplomat inclined his head slightly with profound satisfaction: the union of the northern and southern provinces was sealed, the succession secured, and the royal coffers poised for the stability of Morgath.
That March morning, bathed in sunlight and surrounded by applause, the kingdom seemed invincible. Nothing in the majestic cathedral hinted that the very same crown shining upon their brows today would, with the passing of the seasons, turn into the trap that would ultimately destroy them all.
