OOC Prompt: Bard: Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown
“He will not. If there was to be a retaliation, they would have struck already.”
To Thorn’s ears, the whisper echoed through the cold stone halls like a death sentence. In a moment they would find him, kneeling at the hearth too long after he had swept the ashes out. He could not miss the fear in his father’s eyes. A week later would find him alone on the dusty road, his shoulders still stinging from the rocks they threw.