The city did not sleep that night. It held its breath. The execution square stood at the heart of the kingdom, a place built to remind people that fear had a name. Torches burned along the stone walls, casting long shadows over the wooden platform where chains and blood had shared the same history for years.
Crowds gathered slowly, filling the edges of the square without a sound. No one spoke loudly because they never did in places like this. The King's eyes were everywhere, even when he was not. Silence here was not peace, it was obedience.
Silas stood in the shadows of a narrow rooftop overlooking the square. His body was still, but his eyes tracked every movement below with quiet precision. Guards, archers, and hidden blades placed in plain sight. Nothing in the square existed without purpose.
"They doubled the numbers," Silas said quietly.
