Whispers Beneath the Crown
The air in the royal court hung thick—like the pause before lightning strikes.
Ben stood at the center of the throne room, tall and motionless. The silence around him was so deep that even the faint flicker of the chandeliers above sounded loud, their crystal arms trembling with a metallic chime. The nobles and ministers didn't move, didn't breathe. The King's earlier words still clung to the air, heavy as iron.
Then, Ben's voice came again—low, calm, and dangerous.
"Say that again," he said, eyes narrowing.
The Minister of War swallowed, the sound audible in the stillness. "I said, my King… what if the silver they took came from within the kingdom?"
A few heads turned toward him in disbelief. Others stared at the floor, pretending not to hear.
