They departed the summit grounds three days later, the celebratory afterglow of the wedding tempered now by the sober weight of the Circle's warning, and Wren found herself watching the familiar mountains recede behind them with a strange mixture of relief and lingering unease.
"You're quiet," Kane observed, riding close beside her as their reduced party — herself, Kane, Garrick, Elowen, and a modest guard escort — made their way back toward the Ashgrove manor.
"Just thinking," Wren said. "A week ago, I thought the worst of this was behind us. Thackeray captured, the treaty crisis resolved, my mother finally safe and acknowledged. And now we're riding home already investigating an even larger conspiracy."
"Threats rarely announce themselves politely, one at a time, waiting for the last
