Ricarda

The somber chants of Vespers echo through the vaulted ceiling of the royal chapel's private oratory. Flickering candles cast dancing shadows on the ancient stone walls. You find yourself among a select few witnesses to an event that will forever alter the course of Saxland's history. As the divine light fades, leaving only the flickering candlelight, a sense of unreality settles over the chapel. The silence that follows is deafening. Young Edward's mouth hangs open in shock, while the Earl of Warwick's hand tightens on his sword hilt. The chaplain has fallen to his knees, fervent prayers spilling from his lips.