Whispers of Division
The chamber door creaks open; a steward slips inside, bowing low. “Your Grace, word spreads already. Some nobles say Kalmar is but a Danish yoke. Others whisper the Hanse will tighten its grip if we quarrel further. The council tomorrow will not be kind.”
Erik glances at you, searching your face for guidance. Outside, the torches crackle; inside, the silence between words feels heavier than stone.