Kaelen's POV
The old chapel stood forgotten on the edge of the lower city, its stone walls crumbling but still solid enough to provide shelter. Once it had served the merchant quarter, back when my father's trade agreements had made this district prosperous. Now it was abandoned, windows dark, door rotted off its hinges. The perfect place for meetings that couldn't be discovered.
A single candle sat on what remained of the altar, casting flickering shadows across the faces of the six people gathered in the nave. Cold air seeped through cracks in the walls, making the flame dance and shudder.
My people. The ones who'd lost everything to the crown, just like me.
The ones I'd sworn to lead to justice, no matter the cost.
Right now, they were questioning whether I was still capable of leading them anywhere except to ruin.
