The first letter had been torn in half before Evelyn reached the officers’ hall.
The second was burning in a brazier.
More than thirty veterans crowded the room with opened messages clenched in their hands. Broken wax seals covered the floor. Smoke hung bitter under the rafters.
No one saluted.
Not because discipline had failed.
Anger had taken both hands.
Evelyn entered in the same black command uniform she had worn for every confrontation since returning. Smoke had already settled into the wool. A loose red strand stuck to her cheek.
Her sword remained belted at her side.
Practical.
Not a threat.
Garrick stood beside the long table. A letter lay open in front of him, creased where his fist had closed around it.
“My sister wants to know whether I hid your identity because you s
