The North gathered its strength without spectacle.
The great hall of House Svedana stood open to those who mattered, its long stone chambers filled not with courtiers but with men who carried pieces of the North within them. Banners of the lesser houses hung alongside Svedana's own, their colors worn from years of wind and war rather than ceremony. The air held a quiet weight, shaped by familiarity and something deeper - shared blood, whether acknowledged openly or not.
Elex stood at the center of the long table, one hand resting against the edge as his gaze moved across those assembled. He did not rush the moment. He let them settle. Let the room take shape around them.
They were not strangers, not truly.
Seven captains stood before him, each bearing a resemblance that could not be dismissed as coincidence. The same sharp lines in the jaw. The same steadiness in the eyes. Variations of a face that had once belonged to their former king.
His sons.
