Natalie POV
The heavy rhythmic scraping of iron ink-scrapers against the vellum pages was the only sound left in the grand gallery as the morning sun finally cleared the jagged peaks of the eastern ridge. One by one, the scribe-vards collected the signed boundary ledgers from the marble steps, their movements precise and hurried under the suffocating weight of the room's lingering pressure. The minor border lords had already begun to file out through the lower archways, their heads bowed and their shoulders hunched beneath their damp fur cloaks, looking like a defeated army retreating into the frozen spruce forests.
I remained seated on the high walnut throne, my posture frozen in a line of absolute, mechanical grace.
The midnight-blue wool of my gown felt heavy against my shins, the th
