While Anwyl and I were entwined in hushed conversation along the corridor, fate shattered the calm with the abrupt sound of marching steps. We paused, our quiet exchange interrupted by the heavy pounding of approaching boots. Drawing ourselves to the imposing main entrance, I found a pair of figures clad in regal, gleaming armor waiting for us.
Their voices, both crisp and ceremonious, intoned, "Greetings, Your Grace." In that moment, a familiar chill snaked across my skin. The Imperial Knights had arrived—and I instantly recognized the unspoken accusation in their eyes.
Their presence could only mean one of two things: the cold enforcement of that dreaded restraining order, or the venomous intent to expose the circumstances surrounding the Emperor's demise.
One of the knights stepped forward, his tone measured and inexorable as he announced, "We are here to inform you that Her Majesty, The Queen Consort, has issued an Imperial order."
