#Chapter 111 – Cost of the Crown

Damon The heavy oak doors of my war room shut behind me with a final, echoing thud. I didn’t lock them, but that’s a decision I’d regret in a minute. I wanted no audience. No judgmental eyes. No false diplomacy. Just stone, silence, and the chill of twilight pressing in through the leaded glass windows. I yanked off my jacket and tossed it over the nearest chair, then reached for the circlet still resting like a noose at my temples. I had worn it too long today. It came off with a muted scrape, and I set it on the polished table like it had burned me. Lila’s voice still echoed in my ears—not the words, but the tone. Steady. Cold. A blade in her hand that she didn’t flinch from using. And now the court was bleeding from the cut. The fire crackled low in the hearth. I paced once, then twice, before forcing myself to still. Waiting. The door creaked open again. Ronan entered first, his expression resigned. His cloak was still damp with garden dew, the scent of moss an