"If we fail to prepare the ground for Young Master Morgan—fail to secure the support he needs to rise as soon as the time comes—then we are not just delaying the inevitable," the old woman said, her voice quieter now, but far heavier than before.
She did not look at him at first. Her gaze remained fixed ahead, distant, as if she was already staring at something none of them could escape.
"We are walking straight into our own end."
A pause settled between them, thick and suffocating.
"I am afraid…" she continued, the words coming slower, more deliberate, "that when that moment arrives, we will all be crushed beneath the throne itself."
Her fingers curled slightly at her side, the only sign that the calm she wore was beginning to fracture.
"Not just us," she added, her voice dropping into something almost hollow. "The entire Alpha Empire will fall with us."
