Ethan Swift Pov The silence that followed my oath didn't last five seconds.The whistle of an iron-tipped bolt cut through the morning mist, shattering the quiet with a lethal thwack as it buried itself three inches deep into the oak gatepost an inch from my ear."Ambush!" Adam barked, his single good hand slamming into my chest, shoving me back behind the stone cottage wall as a second bolt ricocheted off the cobblestones in a shower of orange sparks.Through the grey curtain of fog surrounding the lower yard, dark shapes materialized—twelve men in heavy leather brigandines bearing the red iron studs of Jackson Carter’s private house guard. They weren't imperial regulars. These were Carter's personal liquidators, armed with short hunting crossbows, heavy falchions, and short curved daggers designed for narrow corridors and quick executions."They trailed you down from the redoubt," I rasped, pressing my back against the damp timber wall, my heart hammering a fierce rhythm against my

Adam Swift Pov The high solar of the abandoned provincial garrison at Black Ridge smelled of wet stone, old blood, and burnt parchment.Outside, a freezing sleet lashed against the narrow lancet windows, but inside, the air was dead and suffocatingly still.Jackson Carter sat in an iron-bound oak chair behind a heavy oak desk, his hands resting flat on the mahogany wood. He was no longer wearing the pristine silver-trimmed armor of a provincial commander. His dark velvet tunic was rumpled, stained with sweat at the collar, and his once-boastful demeanor was gone, replaced by a hollow, sunken exhaustion.He didn't jump when the heavy oak door was kicked inward. He didn't even draw his sword.I stepped through the shattered doorway, my heavy longsword drawn, the steel gleaming under the dim light of two flickering tallow candles. Behind me, Ethan held the doorway, his shortsword drawn, his gray eyes locking onto the man who had ordered our family murdered ten years ago."I wondered how