Meric

They meet in a scorched town outside the capital. A public execution. Rebels dragged to kneel. The crowd restless. Meric stands at the front of the stage, smirking beneath black lacquered armor, hand resting carelessly on the hilt of a ceremonial sword he’ll never need to draw. Maren watches from the back—towering, cloaked, motionless. Meric sees her. He sees her. And for a moment, the world hushes. Then he smiles at her, cruel and deliberate, like he already knows how the night will end.