The Voice of Treason

Arthur’s pen slipped from his trembling fingers, clattering against the polished mahogany of the conference table. The silence in the sealed chamber was suffocating, heavier than the winter fog clinging to the diplomatic headquarters. Before him sat two delegations separated by a legacy of bloodshed, staring at a stack of documents that awaited the signatures to end a two-generation war. Arthur’s mission was clear: to build bridges out of jagged words. However, the Northern Chairman—a man with features carved from cold flint—leaned toward his advisor and muttered a sharp phrase in a coarse reg...