A folded notice waited beside Albert’s untouched breakfast.
High Alpha Blackcoast had extended his delegation’s stay.
The official reason was Greyhaven’s military posture.
A servant supplied the rest: Marcus had given the order outside Evelyn’s door, then looked back before walking away.
Albert folded the notice again.
Jealousy would not govern the meeting.
That was the first rule he gave himself.
The second was simpler.
Greyhaven could not survive another night like the ballroom.
Evelyn stood at the military end of the council table with her injured hand wrapped in linen.
Marcus sat across from her beside his Beta.
Celeste occupied Albert’s right.
Lucian waited near the windows under double guard.
Morning light lay flat across the maps and exposed every red mark and hurried c
