The scream came from somewhere deep in the court ranks—a noblewoman, maybe—but it was soon swallowed by a rising wave of panic and gasps.
Chairs scraped. Mouths opened and shut without sound.
Kael froze.
Murmurs spread like fire through dry leaves.
"Godsbreaker Mark…?"
"But that's just a myth—"
"No one's seen one in centuries—!"
"Why would he have it…?"
The fear was tangible now.
Noblemen leaned in to whisper, women clutched at jewelry or veils, and guards standing by the marble columns shifted uneasily.
One lord nearly stumbled as he tried to rise, eyes darting toward the exits, while another mopped sweat from his brow with a trembling hand.
The Godsbreaker Mark… The very name was like a forbidden scripture spoken aloud—an omen, a curse, a warning wrapped in flesh.
The king raised his hand again, his voice cutting through the panic like a blade.
"It will not be declared to the common people," he said firmly.
