The morning sun clawed its way over the high stone walls of the Valerian Estate, casting long, jagged shadows across the manicured courtyards. While Silas was miles away, fueled by a tempest of righteous fury and racing toward the capital, Liam and Elena had just concluded their formal greetings in Isabella’s private quarters.
The atmosphere within the manor was stifling, thick with the scent of expensive incense and unspoken tension. Because Elena had entered the Valerian household as a secondary wife, the ceremonies were intentionally truncated, stripped of the grand pageantry that would typically accompany the union of two noble houses. There were no cheering crowds, no flower-strewn paths, and no celebratory fanfares. Instead, she had been brought through a side gate in a modest seda
