Lamp smoke and cleaning spirits filled the military corridor.
Behind Evelyn, servants scrubbed Celeste’s blood from the marble.
Her threat followed anyway.
The palace would treat Evelyn like a soldier, as though five years of war had not already taught her what those words cost.
Servants hurried toward the broken glass.
Evelyn didn’t look back.
She had been treated like a soldier for five years.
The court had no idea what it was promising.
Albert remained in the officers’ dining hall after the benches emptied.
Veterans carried bowls to the kitchens and spoke more quietly than usual. Several saluted him on their way out.
The gestures were correct.
Respectful.
Empty of the familiarity they gave Evelyn.
They recognized Greyhaven’s Alpha.
They did not recognize one of their own.
