Nora Hale’s family had left the crown property before Celeste’s carriage reached it.
The cottage stood open beneath a gray morning sky.
No fire burned in the hearth. A bowl of porridge remained on the table, the surface hardened by cold. One chair had fallen near the door.
Lorrain held the transfer order in both hands.
Celeste recognized the seal pressed into the wax.
Her house.
Her authority.
Not her command.
“Where were they taken?” she asked.
The property steward kept his eyes lowered.
“The guards said the family had been reassigned.”
“To which estate?”
“They did not say.”
“Who were the guards?”
“They wore crown colors.”
“That was not my question.”
The steward swallowed.
“I did not know them.”
Celeste took the document from Lorrain.
The order stated that Nora’s parent
