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The sun was already dipping below the horizon by the time Kerrigan and team gathered in the meeting room, their expressions tense and focused. Documents, notes, and sketches of their strategy were spread across the long wooden table, but despite their best efforts, an air of uncertainty hung heavily over them. The pressure was mounting as the trial against Kelan Benedict approached, and every detail had to be perfect.“We’ve got the financial records tying Lady Evelyn to the Benedict family. That’s solid,” Aileana said, pacing at the head of the table. Her eyes darted between the papers as if absorbing every word written on them. “The Benedicts are going to push back hard, and they’re not above manipulating the media, though. If we control the narrative, we control public perception.”Conor nodded, flipping through the documents he had prepared. “We need more than just numbers—we need something that hits the public emotionally, something they can connect with. People need to see the f
The soft murmur of voices echoed through the hallways of the royal capital’s guest quarters, but Kerrigan’s thoughts were elsewhere, tangled in the web of secrets and half-truths she had uncovered in the past few days.Her encounter with Duke Atholl had only deepened her confusion, and now, the arrival of the Duchess—her grandmother—seemed both a blessing and a curse. The Duchess was one of the few people who might have the answers she sought, but Kerrigan wasn’t sure if she was ready to hear them.The Duchess had arrived earlier that morning, her presence a quiet yet commanding force that filled the room. She had come under the guise of supporting her husband in the ongoing political turmoil, but Kerrigan knew there was more to her visit. There always was.As Kerrigan made her way to the drawing room where her grandmother waited, she could feel the weight of the conversation to come pressing down on her. She hadn’t told anyone else what she planned to ask—not even Conor. This was a fa
The streets of the royal capital buzzed with anticipation, the tension thick in the air as the trial against Kelan Benedict began. Crowds gathered outside the High Council chambers, murmurs of curiosity and suspicion filling the cobblestone streets. Word of the trial had spread like wildfire, and all eyes were on Kerrigan and her team. The stakes had never been higher.Inside the grand stone halls of the Council chamber, the atmosphere was no less charged. The air was heavy with the scent of old wood and polished metal, the chamber packed with nobles, council members, and officials all eager to see how the proceedings would unfold. Every seat was filled, and those who couldn’t secure a place stood along the back walls, their faces etched with interest and anxiety.Kerrigan sat near the front, her posture straight and composed, though inside, her mind raced with the weight of the trial ahead. Beside her sat Conor, a steady presence as always, his hand resting lightly on her arm, a quiet
The streets of Jinstain bustled with life as news crews wove through the crowds, cameras and microphones poised to catch the next big story.The trial of Kelan Benedict was a firestorm of gossip, but for those looking to dig deeper, Conor Brantley was quickly becoming an equally hot topic.He had risen from obscurity to a central figure in the battle for justice alongside Kerrigan Lokir, and with that rise came scrutiny—some of it malicious.But in Jinstain, the reporters seeking dirt found something quite different.The first crew stopped outside the Jinstain Community Center, where a few children played in the courtyard, laughter echoing through the bright, chilly afternoon. The center’s director, Jonathan, stood by the front door, watching the reporters with a mix of curiosity and wariness.He had worked under Priestess Rainna for years and had known Conor since he was a boy. The sight of the cameras immediately set him on edge, but he wasn’t about to let anyone tarnish Conor’s name
King Ryu Pinion sat in his private study, the heavy velvet curtains drawn tightly against the late afternoon sun. The chamber was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch across the polished stone floor.While there was modern lighting is much of the castle, the candles pleased him, so he insisted on their presents, at least in certain rooms.In the silence, he could hear only the soft crackle of the fire and the ticking of the ancient clock on the mantle. His mind, however, was anything but quiet.The trial against Kelan Benedict had dominated the capital for weeks now, pulling the eyes of the entire kingdom toward Kerrigan Lokir.Her growing influence disturbed him—there was a sense of inevitability in the way her popularity had blossomed, how the people spoke of her. Even within the High Council, there were whispers of admiration, quiet but dangerous.And Conor. Always Conor.The King’s jaw tightened at the thought of him. Conor Brantley,
The High Council chamber buzzed with a tense energy, the trial against Kelan Benedict reaching a fever pitch. Kerrigan stood at the center of it all, a figure of determination and resolve, but beneath the calm façade, a storm brewed within her.The days of presenting evidence, enduring cross-examinations, and watching Gregor’s smug indifference had taken their toll on her patience. She could feel Abraxas’s power surging in her veins, growing more difficult to control with every passing day.Today, they were finally at a critical point. Aileana, Mr. Nuri, and the rest of the legal team had worked tirelessly to compile the damning evidence—financial records, witness testimonies, and documentation linking Kelan and his family to corruption, extortion, and violence.The public was beginning to shift, murmurs of discontent with the Benedict family growing louder. Kerrigan could feel the weight of it, the pressure to see this through, to bring justice not only for herself but for the kingdom
The weight of the trial pressed heavily on Conor’s mind as he sat alone in his chambers. The High Council’s proceedings had grown more intense with each passing day, and though they were making progress against Kelan Benedict, the strain was becoming unbearable.Not just on Kerrigan, but on him as well. Their powers, while formidable, had become unpredictable. And Kerrigan—gods, Kerrigan—was suffering under the growing pressure of Abraxas’s power, and it was only getting worse.Conor rubbed his temples, feeling the familiar hum of energy just beneath his skin. It was always there, a constant reminder of Celia, the dragon soul that had chosen him as her Deinmaar. She had been quiet for so long, letting him navigate the complexities of the trial on his own. But now, as the tension between him and Kerrigan grew, he couldn’t help but wonder if her silence was deliberate.He needed answers. Needed guidance.For the first time in weeks, he closed his eyes and reached out to her, calling her
The corridors of the royal palace felt cold and distant as Conor made his way through the maze-like hallways, his mind preoccupied with the revelations from Celia the night before.He couldn’t stop thinking about the Valtas bond, about Kerrigan, and the growing weight of their intertwined destinies.But as much as the future pressed down on him, something deeper had begun to surface—questions about his past, specifically about his mother, Priestess Rainna.Rainna had always been a towering figure in his memory, a woman of grace and power, but also one who carried the burdens of the kingdom’s spiritual well-being.Now, with the trial underway, Kerrigan’s parents and his mother had been brought up more than once, Conor’s curiosity about Rainna’s connection to Kerrigan’s family gnawed at him.He needed answers.And there was only one person left who could provide them: the Duchess. She had been apart of things all those years ago, if the letters Kerrigan had found where genuine. Conor s