Page 171 of A Court of Wings and Shadows

I felt the words like a slap, and my fingers curled into fists at my sides.The crown created that.I wanted to scream it.They stripped the warders from their towers. They pulled the healers from their people. They did this.But I stayed silent.

Kaler’s mouth tightened as he continued. “Several of these houses have refused royal summons. They no longer sendmessages. They no longer acknowledge Warriath’s authority. They’ve broken from the kingdom in spirit, if not in name.”

A ripple moved through the crowd, unease settling into our bones.

“Squads will be dispatched in the coming days,” Kaler went on. “Each to a different Kingdom. You will remind them who protects this realm. Who has always stood between them and the Blood Fae.”

Just then, a court courier broke through the gate. His cloak was dusted with ash, his cheeks flushed from a hard ride. He moved straight to the platform, hand extended.

Kaler accepted the parchment and broke the seal.

He read quickly.

Then his face hardened.

The silence that followed was absolute.

His voice was low when he finally spoke, but every word rang clear as a death bell.

“War has been declared.”

Gasps and murmurs broke out immediately.

Kaler raised the letter.

“The Varnari have sent a formal warning to the crown. They do not recognize the authority of the Fourth Guild. Effective immediately, they intend to destroy its legacy.”

His hand lowered.

“They have declared that the dragons will serve them, or be slain.”

A breath caught in my throat.

And then, the final words?—

“Fourth Guild will be dissolved.”

The world tilted slightly on its axis.

Not just a threat. Not whispers in taverns. Not stolen glances and painted banners.

This was a declaration.

The storm wasn’t coming anymore.

It had already broken, and we were standing in its eye. But before I could process the reality the sound of shouting echoed around me.

The great iron-bound doors of the castle slammed open with a clang that echoed across the Ascension Grounds.

Theron stormed out, his royal guards flanking him like living statues of polished steel. His crimson and black cloak billowed behind him, each step striking the stone like a hammer. Rage simmered off him in waves—controlled, yes, but barely.

He made a direct path for Zander, who stood near the base of the dais, his hands casually resting behind his back. Crownwatch shifted around him instinctively, protective but not interfering. My squad didn’t move, but I felt the tension coil in every shoulder like a bowstring drawn taut.

“Zander,” Theron called, his voice sharp and full of venom, “you are hereby charged with treason.”

The entire field froze.

“You have actively worked against the crown,” he continued, stopping just short of his brother. “You have conspired with dangerous elements, and you will not be king.”