The assassin came in the hour before dawn, when the palace was at its quietest and the guards were changing shifts.
Lysander was in the supply office, reviewing the latest grain reports, when he heard the scream. It was not a scream of fear or pain—it was the scream of someone who had seen something that should not be there. He was on his feet and running before the echo died.
The royal chambers were at the far end of the eastern corridor. By the time Lysander reached them, the corridor was already crowded with guards. Miros was there, his sword drawn, his face pale. Hecuba stood in the doorway, her walking stick gripped like a weapon, her dark eyes blazing with a fury that made the guards shrink back.
"Inside," she said. "He's inside."
Lysander pushed through the guards and into the chamber.
