The tower no longer felt like a place where people rested. It felt like a room where decisions were made that could not be taken back
Sean stood at the table with a map of the kingdom spread open in front of him. His fingers rested lightly on the edges but his eyes were not reading the land. They were reading patterns.
The kind of patterns that only become visible when you know what a man does right before he destroys something.
"The King won't strike immediately," Sean said, his voice flat and certain.
"He already has," Alaric replied from where he stood against the stone wall, arms crossed, eyes cold. "Explain."
Sean tapped a point on the map without rushing. "The palace guards have been rotated. New faces, new loyalties, all answering directly upward."
He moved his finger to the outer edge of the city. "The gates are closed to merchants. Open only to military movement."
He looked up. "He is not preparing to attack. He is preparing to suffocate."
