The great hall of the palace had never been so full.
Every noble who could travel had come. Lords from the southern provinces. Ladies from the eastern territories. Even a handful of northern envoys, still wary, still watching, but present. The gallery above the floor was packed with servants, merchants, and common citizens who had somehow obtained passes.
Seren sat in the front row of the gallery, Lysa beside her. Below, on the raised dais, Aeron stood alone.
Behind him, Kael and Theron flanked the throne. Their faces were masks of royal composure, but Seren could feel their tension through the bond. This was the moment. The charter they had fought for, compromised over, nearly died for.
Aeron unrolled a parchment covered in his precise handwriting.
"Today," he said, "I present the Human Rights Charter."
The hall went silent.
