The King | [s1e7] An Attack On

"You’re late, Malakor," Alaric said, his voice echoing in the hollow chamber.

King Alaric didn’t flinch. He sat atop the Obsidian Seat, his fingers tracing the notch in his ancestral blade. Beside him, the High Mage whispered a containment spell, but the air was already thick with the scent of ozone and burnt lavender—the calling card of the . [S1E7] An Attack on the King

The heavy iron doors of the Throne Room didn’t just open; they were shattered inward. "You’re late, Malakor," Alaric said, his voice echoing

The assassin vanished into a cloud of soot just as the backup guards finally breached the side doors. The King was safe, but as he looked at his hand, he saw the mark: a black stitch across his palm. The attack was over, but the had begun. Beside him, the High Mage whispered a containment

"I had to bypass your 'invincible' Iron Guard," the assassin replied, tossing a handful of shattered silver crests onto the marble floor. "They were surprisingly brittle."