The Third Pov
High-ranking officials from every major territory were in the grand hall, their fine clothes and jewels glittering under the chandeliers.
This was more than a celebration. This was a display of power. Of hierarchy. Of who mattered and who did not.
At the head of the room, seated beside King Alaric and Prince Evander, was General Ravena. Her posture was straight, and her expression composed. She looked like she belonged there. Like she had always belonged there.
And maybe she had.
Meanwhile, Garrick Throne stood near the entrance, his hands clenched into fists at his sides and his face red with anger.
His family should have been the ones sitting at the head table. His son should have been the one honoured by the king. His daughter in law should have been the one praised
