The afternoon sun cast long bands of golden light across King's Avenue, where Regina's Media District thrived beneath a restless rhythm of rattling printing presses, hurried couriers, and determined reporters moving from one publishing house to another with ink-stained hands and tightly folded notes, creating an atmosphere where information possessed almost the same value as political influence because a carefully written sentence could strengthen a kingdom's confidence or quietly fracture it before sunset.
Elegant stone buildings lined the broad avenue, their balconies crowded with editors discussing deadlines while apprentices carried stacks of freshly printed newspapers toward waiting delivery wagons, and although the district appeared no different from any ordinary working day, an invisible current of urgency drifted through every newsroom as though many people had received the same secret instruction without ever gathering in the same room.
