Morwenna's POV
Firelight flickered against the war maps, but I barely noticed. My hands trembled over the parchment, not from fear, not even from exhaustion—but from the knowing. A cold, sharp awareness had settled in my bones, something ancient and final. I had seen what would happen. And I didn’t know if I could stop it.
Leofric was dying.
Not fast. Not slow. Just inevitable. The curse clawed deeper each day, and though he masked it well in front of the generals, I saw it. In the stiffness of his jaw. In the shadows under his eyes. In the way his hands occasionally spasmed when he thought no one watched.
I always watched.
Sabine stood by the window, arms folded tight, moonlight painting silver across her dreadlocks. "You can't lead them like this," she said. "Not if your heart's alr
