Caelum's POV
I've spent the days since finding her empty chambers doing the same quiet work I did before I ever suspected her fully—asking careful questions of people who owe me more loyalty than they ever owed her, and trusting, this time, my own instincts rather than waiting for someone else to hand me certainty.
It's a stable hand, of all people, who gives me the thread that finally leads somewhere useful. He remembers a courier passing through Ashveil's outer gate twice in the past month, always at odd hours, always carrying correspondence addressed to no name he recognized, always paid handsomely enough by an anonymous source that he never thought to question it until I asked directly.
"Where does he ride to?" I ask.
"East," the stable hand says. "Toward the neutral markets. There
