IRIS

The King’s chest goes still, and the air cracks with silence. Darian doesn’t cry, doesn’t sob. He doesn’t even blink. He just stares at his father, face as sharp and hard as steel, yet inside… I can feel the storm brewing.

The healers freeze, magic still trembling in their palms. Their eyes are wide and fearful, finally meeting the wrath of a man who has seen death close, but not like this. Not his father.

Darian steps forward, voice low but lethal. “You!” His hand slams against the nearest table, shoving it with enough force to send vials rattling. “You were supposed to save him! Every spell, every remedy,...