Word came from Ashgrove eleven days later, not through Corin this time, but through a formal messenger carrying Renshaw's personal seal, arriving at Duskrail's gates with a ceremony that told me before Torin had even broken the wax that whatever answer waited inside, it was meant to be taken seriously by everyone who witnessed its delivery. I felt my chest tighten with a mixture of hope and dread as Torin broke the seal and read the contents aloud in his study, Callan and I both leaning in despite ourselves.
Ashgrove's council has voted, he read, his voice carrying a controlled steadiness that told me he was working hard not to let his own relief show too plainly before he had finished the full message, in favor of formal alliance with Duskrail, contingent on mutual defense terms to be ne
