Chapter 105: A City Holds Its Breath
The words did not remain within the walls of the Grand Hall.
They could not.
For even as the man's voice rang out beneath vaulted ceilings and watchful chandeliers, it was carried far beyond polished marble and gilded banners—spilling into the capital through the great scrying veils that had been erected for the public spectacle of the selection process.
And so, the city heard.
—
At first, it had been nothing more than a rumour.
A passing murmur.
Something exchanged between merchants over weighed fruit and half-counted coins.
"They say there'll be something big tonight."
"A reveal, they said."
"Bah. Folk always say that. Nothing ever comes of it."
Most had dismissed it.
The capital thrived on whispers. It fed on them. And just as often, it discarded them.
But now—the whisper had taken shape.
Now it had a voice.
And the voice had spoken treason.
—
A crowd had gathered in the market square long before the announcement.
