Xerxes moved with purpose, his hands now in the pockets of his trousers, his tall frame casting a long shadow as he approached. He did not speak at first—he did not need to. The sheer force of his presence was enough to send a ripple of unease through the gathering.
The Duke quickly stood and bowed.
"Your Majesty." He greeted looking up, his eyes met with Andrew. Always like a shadow behind the King.
He had trained alongside Andrew, the King’s personal advisor, and several other noble-born men—distant relatives of the royal family, yet bound by duty to serve the crown. Their training had been brutal, meant to forge them into warriors, strategists, and protectors of the kingdom.
Andrew had always been composed, a man of sharp instincts and unwavering discipline. Eden respected him, tho
