The palace didn’t sleep the night after the strike.
By dawn the corridors were lined with soldiers and wolves, their eyes hollow from watch, their armor clinking with each shift of weight. Servants moved in hushed flurries, heads bowed, their whispers darting like shadows along the stone.
Lou and I walked through it together. His palm rested warm at the small of my back, guiding without pressing, every step of his measured and deliberate. The Heart Stone lay heavy against my chest, steady in its glow.
The closer we drew to the tribunal chamber, the thicker the air became. Words chased us down the hall, fragments carried on nervous tongues.
“Dragon’s Bride…”
“…her wings were seen…”
“…Vyris betrayed—who else?”
Some bowed as we passed, hands to their hearts. Others turned their faces a
