By the time the sun rose and the air warmed with the smell of earth and morning mist, the estate is already alive with movement. The news had traveled fast, carried by enchanted messengers and confirmed by the communication orb in the war room.
The king is furious.
Word from the capital is that King Septimus had flown into a rage so violent that no one dared approach him. The council chamber had emptied within minutes of his outburst. In his anger, he had done something reckless, something no one expected; he had spent half of the kingdom's yearly treasury.
The gold was paid out in one lump sum to six powerful sorcerers in the kingdom; other than Ulysses and Silas, all are known across the continent for their destructive magic. He sent them straight to Ashburn.
No warning. No summons. Just a direct order to attack. To burn down the Marquisate of Ashburn. To erase it from noble records as if it had never existed. But Sienna-Rose had been preparing for this.
