“That she likes you, a little.” Elvyn plucked a blade of grass and twirled it between her fingers. “Do not mistake this for affection. She simply does not wish to kill you today. It is a start.”The soldiers exchanged glances. Tavish, who had been listening with wide, wary eyes, cleared his throat.“My lady,” he said hoarsely. “May I ask you something?”“You may.”“The things she said last night. About your parents. The river.” He hesitated. “Is it true? That she jumped in the boiling water?”Elvyn’s smile vanished. She stared at the blade of grass in her fingers for a long moment. “Yes,” she said quietly. “It is true.”“She must have been very brave.”“She was ten years old. She did not think. She simply went.”“And you?”“I stood on the bank.” Her voice was very low. “I have been standing there ever since.”Nobody spoke. The wind stirred the grass. A short distance away, Melissa turned her head slightly, as though listening, then turned back to the horizon.“I should not have asked,

“Everything.” Melissa’s fingers brushed the stone. “The things I have learned. The bargains I have made. The people I have wronged.” She paused. “I told her about you, last year. That I had heard you were doing well. That the Hand had made you First Voice.”“What did she say?”“Nothing. She never does.” A faint, wistful smile. “But the flowers bloomed. They have never bloomed so fully.”Elvyn looked down at the white blossoms, glowing softly in the mist, and her throat tightened. “Perhaps she was pleased.”“Perhaps.”“Perhaps she wanted you to know.”“I have no way of knowing.” Melissa rose, brushing the moss from her knees. “But it comforts me to think so.”She bowed her head, and for a long moment she stood motionless before the stone, lips moving silently. The mist glowed brighter around her, and the faint, whispering hum of the ghostly host rose and fell, like wind in distant pines.Then she stepped back, retrieved her staff, and turned to the soldiers, who had stood throughout in

“I see that.” Her eyes narrowed. “The outer wall is new. And the watchtowers. He fears an attack.”“He fears one man.”“The boy.”“Yes.”“Then he is wiser than he looks.” Melissa urged her horse forward. “Come. I wish to see what else he has built.”They descended the long slope toward the city, and as the walls grew larger, the soldiers’ faces grew tighter. The Pale Scribes stood watch along every rampart, grey-cloaked figures with long spears, their faces hidden beneath pale hoods. Banners of Lord Darius’s house, black on gold, hung from every tower, snapping in the wind.“Ready your colors,” Brannock called softly. “Straighten your backs. Look like soldiers.”The men obeyed, sitting taller, polishing their buckles with their sleeves. Even Tavish, pale and hoarse, managed to square his shoulders. Doran fumbled with his badge, pinning it more firmly to his tunic, his hands trembling.“Do not let them see you are afraid,” Elvyn said. “Fear invites questions.”“Yes, my lady.”“And reme

By the time the great hall was filled, the afternoon had begun to turn toward evening. Long shafts of amber light slanted through the high arched windows, picking out the gilt on the vaulted ceiling and the pale marble of the soaring pillars that marched down either side of the chamber in two stately rows. Hundreds of nobles, commanders, guild-masters, and officials stood in whispering clusters along the walls, resplendent in their finest silks and armor. At the far end of the hall, on a raised dais, stood a great carved chair of black oak and gold, with smaller seats arranged on either side.Darius took the central chair. Varek sat at his right hand, the gaunt Hand representative at his left. Behind them, in a loose semicircle, stood the elders of the Nameless Nation, a dozen figures in dark, high-collared robes, their faces solemn, their eyes sharp. Among them was the heavyset, grey-bearded man who had spoken of riots a few nights before, and beside him, shifting uneasily on his fee

The ten soldiers had dismounted behind them, handing their reins to waiting grooms, and now stood in a stiff, nervous line, staring up at the great arched doors. Brannock’s scar gleamed pale in the afternoon light. Doran was visibly sweating. Tavish, hoarse and bruised, kept his eyes fixed on his boots.“Sorceress,” Brannock said hesitantly. “Shall we escort you inside?”“No.”“My lady, protocol—”“I will go in with my sister. The rest of you wait here.” She glanced at them, and every man bowed his head. “You have done what was required. Rest. Eat. Do not wander.”“Yes, Sorceress.”“And if anyone asks you what happened in my valley, you will say nothing.”“Nothing at all, Sorceress.”“Good.” She turned and mounted the palace steps, her gown trailing behind her, her staff clicking softly against the stone.Elvyn followed a pace behind, her face tight with tension. At the top of the steps, two guards in black and gold livery stood at attention before the great doors. Their eyes widened