Dawn came slowly, the sky over the capital faded from black to grey as the first toll of the mourning bell rolled outward from the palace towers. The sound was deep and measured, each strike spaced with intention. It pressed into the stone beneath the city and carried through corridors, chambers, and sleeping quarters alike.
Elias stood by the high arched window of the royal solar, his forehead pressed against the cold glass. With every strike of the bell, he felt a subtle, tectonic shift in the environment. The palace resonance grid—the invisible network was recalibrating. It was no longer searching for the fading, erratic signature of the old King. It was reaching out, seeking the new sovereign.
It made him uneasy. It either meant the system was built for him or it had been waiting for him.
