The morning sun rose over the Capital not with its usual golden heraldry, but with a pale light filtered through a lingering shroud of oily smoke. The city, usually a bustling hive of commerce by dawn, was eerily quiet, save for the rhythmic, distant tolling of the bells from the Great Cathedral.
In the heart of the Royal Palace, the Royal Solar, stood as a blackened, hollowed-out skeleton. However, deep beneath the scorched marble and the shattered glass, in a sanctum protected by the most ancient subterranean wards of the founding kings, the King's Private Study remained untouched.
