The invitation spread faster than anyone expected. Not in proclamations nailed to gates. Not in trumpets. But in whispers.
Dragon couriers carrying sealed frost-crested envelopes. Lycan runners exchanging folded parchment at border inns. Mage houses receiving elegant, carefully worded letters requesting their presence at Her Majesty’s First Winter Assembly… a royal ball meant to “restore trust between the Northern Crown and its people.”
A ball. A gathering. A stage.
The lower chamber of the academy had begun to look less like a sanctuary and more like a command post.
Maps, ledgers and rotating patrol schedules were stretched on the long table. Names of minor noble houses pinned beside trade routes. Small notes written in different inks – dragon, lycan, mage.
They weren’t a rebellion y
