The clatter of horses and the thunderous march of the royal convoy echoed through the palace gates long before the banners of King Darius were visible. Trumpets announced the young king's return, but there was no celebration this time—no smiles or music or flower petals strewn along the cobbled path. The air was heavy. Even the guards on duty stood a little stiffer, glancing nervously at one another. They had heard of the chaos in his absence. And they knew King Darius would not take kindly to it.
Darius dismounted before his steed could be properly led away, his boots landing with a thud on the marble steps of the courtyard. Dust clung to his cloak, and travel fatigue pulled at his features, but his eyes were sharp—too sharp.
He wasted no time.
"Bring me the ones responsible. Now."
