By mid-afternoon, the guards opened the large double doors of the throne hall. People filtered in until the hall was packed. The high ceilings and stone walls did nothing to absorb the noise. Voices bounced off the walls, layering on top of each other until the sound was a constant rumble.

Word of the arrests had spread quickly across and beyond Lycanthria. Nobles, elders, and officials had been summoned to witness what would follow. The elders of the council stood to the left of the throne; they wore dark robes because the situation called for it. They were men who had served the crown for decades. Noblemen and officials who were not under arrest filled the right side of the hall, their fine clothes and polished boots marking their status. Guards lined the walls and stood at every entrance, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords, presence firm and at alert.

At the center of the hall stood the arrested traitors. They were arranged in rows and facing the throne. Their hands were bound in iron chains, the links heavy enough to make their arms hang low with the weight. Some stood upright, trying to maintain composure. Others looked shaken, their eyes moving across the room as if searching for support that was no longer there. Some of them had family members beside them, wives, children who had resisted the arrest, but the captains were merciful enough not to kill them. However, they were not bound; they were guarded.

Among them was Elder Toben, who stood at the front of the group, his face red and jaw set. Beside him was Lady Virella; she kept her eyes fixed on the floor. Lord Ulthok stood with his back straight, his lips moving silently in what appeared to be prayer. Lord Corin was trembling, his chains rattling with the motion. Lady Syra stood apart from the others, her posture calm, her hands clasped before her despite the chains. Elder Drax had his head bowed, his aged frame seeming smaller than it had that morning.

There were many others with them. Some were noblemen of minor houses. Some were commoners who had risen to positions of influence: a customs official, a treasury clerk, a captain in the city watch. Some who had held positions of trust. Some who had sat in council chambers and spoken on matters of the kingdom. Now they stood as accused traitors.

At the far end of the hall, the raised platform held the throne. King Alaric sat on the throne. He wore a simple dark-blue tunic with the silver wolf pin that fastened his cloak at his collar. His posture was straight and his expression firm. He did not look away from the accused.

Aveloria sat beside him on a smaller throne. She wore a black dress, her hair pulled back, and her hands rested in her lap. Her gaze was firm and fixed on the traitors.

Below the throne seat stood Trovald, Galen, and Theron. All three were positioned slightly apart but alert, their attention on both the prisoners and the hall.

The murmurs in the room grew louder as more people spoke in hushed tones, sharing what they had heard, forming opinions, questioning what would happen next.

Then Alaric raised his hand. The murmuring did not stop immediately. It took several seconds for the people in the hall to notice the gesture and then a few more for the silence to spread from the front to the back.

Alaric lowered his hand and looked at the prisoners. He took his time, letting his gaze move from one face to the next. When he had looked at each of them, he began to speak.

"I have ruled this kingdom for years. And during that time, I have not ruled alone." He said. His voice was steady, carrying across the hall without strain. "I relied on counsel. I listened to advice. We ate at the same tables. I placed trust in those who stood beside me."

No one interrupted. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"I see before me men who have shared that responsibility. Men who sat in council. Men who spoke on matters of law, security, and the future of this kingdom. And now I see those same men standing in chains."

A shift moved through the crowd, but no one spoke.

His gaze hardened slightly. "This is not a small matter. This is not a mistake that can be ignored or explained in any way. This is betrayal."

A murmur broke out, louder this time. Noblemen shouted over each other, their voices competing for the king’s attention. Some voices spoke in anger. Others are in disbelief. A few called for immediate punishment. Some demanded that the families be stripped of their lands and titles. Some argued that the prisoners should be tortured first to reveal more details of the conspiracy.

Alaric raised his hand again. Silence returned.

"I do not know when each of you made the choice. Perhaps it was last year. Perhaps it was five years ago. Perhaps some of you have been doing this for a decade or more. It does not matter now. What matters is that you made the choice. No one forced you. No one threatened you. You chose to betray this kingdom and be with a man whose sole purpose is to see this realm fall apart. You served his cause. For gold? For promises of power? Or because you believed the Dark Lord would win."

At that, Lord Corin raised his hands as much as the bindings would allow.

"Your Grace, I beg you to listen." He said, his voice strained but clear. "I was approached, yes, but I never should have let myself fall into it. I shouldn’t—"

Lady Virella cut him off. She lifted her head from where she had been staring at the floor. "The Queen approached me. She said it was for the good of the kingdom. She said you were too weak to rule and that someone needed to take action. I believed her."

Lord Korthan’s voice came from the second row, high and ready with fear. "Elder Toben came to me. He said everyone was doing it. He said if I did not participate, I would be seen as an enemy when the change came. I was afraid."

Lord Brenek spoke. "Elder Varon and Elder Toben brought me into this. I did not want any part of it. And when I saw the reason for the cause, I wanted to back out, but he told me it was too late to back out."

To ben stepped forward as much as his chains allowed. "My King, you must understand—this is not as it seems. I was also approached. Pressured. The Queen...she influenced this. And Varon...he was the one who brought us together." He said quickly, his voice strained but controlled.

A few others spoke up immediately after him.

"Yes, Varon led it."

"We were misled."

"We had no full understanding of what was happening."

Elder Drax raised his voice. "We were protecting ourselves. We believed it was necessary."

The hall began to stir again as more of the accused tried to speak at once. Each of the traitors explained. Each of them pointed at someone else: the Queen, Toben, Varon, a promise made in a moment of weakness. They begged for mercy. They asked the king to understand. They said they had been misled, threatened, and coerced.

Alaric listened to all of it. He did not interrupt. He let them speak until the last voice had fallen silent and the hall had quieted again.

"You had no choice?" His voice was calm, but firm. "You all had choices! You had positions of power. You had access to me. You could have told me what was being planned. You have a right to speak, a duty to warn, an obligation to act in the interest of this kingdom, to refuse to participate, and accept whatever consequences come from that refusal. But you did not do those things. You made your choices, and you made them repeatedly over months and years."

He looked from one face to another. No one responded. A few of the accused lowered their heads. Others looked away.

Alaric continued. "You were given responsibility. You were trusted. And you chose to use that trust for your own gain."

Elder Toben spoke again, this time louder. "Your Grace, we can make amends."

"My king, give us the chance to correct this. We will serve the crown again." Lord Corin added.

Alaric looked at them. "You already served the crown. And this is what you chose to do with that position."

Toben tried again. "My King, mercy—"

Alaric cut him off. "Mercy is given to those who show loyalty and regret. Not to those who only speak when they are caught."

The hall remained silent. No one dared to speak.

Alaric looked over the entire group once more. Then he spoke clearly.

"This is my judgment."

He paused. The traitors stood frozen.

"The actions you have taken have put this kingdom at risk. You have worked with forces that seek to weaken what we have built. You have chosen your side. And now you will face the consequences of that choice."

He paused briefly. A few of the accused shifted, tension rising among them.

"You are all guilty of high treason against the crown and the kingdom. The sentence is death. You will be taken to the Green tower, and you will be executed at first light."

The words landed like stones dropped into still water. Some of the prisoners let out a sound that was half gasp, half sob. Some shook their chains, rattling continuously. Some lowered their head.

The murmuring started again, low and scattered.

Alaric continued. "Your titles will be stripped. The crown will seize your estates. Your families will not share the death penalty unless evidence proves their involvement. They will be investigated. Those found innocent will be released and will face a fairer judgment later on."

That caused a visible reaction among the families. Some relief. Some uncertainty.

Elder Drax strained against his chains, his face turning pale. "Your Grace, please! Have mercy on me! I have served the crown for twenty years. I made a mistake! I made a terrible mistake! But I—"

Alaric cut him off. "Take them away."

Commander Tharkun stepped forward from where he stood. He raised his hand and made a sharp gesture toward the doors. The guards moved immediately. They took the prisoners by arms, their grips firm. Some of them resisted. Some of their knees gave out, and guards had to help them to their feet. Some wept openly and pleaded for mercy as they pulled them towards the doors.

The family members of the prisoners were led out separately from the main group. Some of them called out to their loved ones, weeping. Some tried to reach them, but the guards restricted them.

When the doors finally closed behind them, the weight of what had just happened settled over the hall.

Alaric stood up. "We meet tomorrow at the Green Towers." He stepped down from the throne platform.

Aveloria did the same and followed her father out of the hall.

The murmuring resumed immediately as they slowly filed out of the hall in groups.

The decision had been made.