The estate had been restored with unsettling efficiency. Broken stone replaced. Blood scrubbed from the courtyard. The banners rehung as though they had never been torn down. From a distance, it looked untouched by war.
Up close, the cracks were still there.
They were just inside us now.
I avoided the council dinner that night. I didn’t want wine or congratulations or the careful way people studied my face when they thought I wasn’t looking. I had no patience for relief disguised as loyalty.
Instead, I went to the west wing.
Our rooms were quieter than the formal Luna suite. Fewer windows facing the main drive. Thicker walls. The forest pressed closer here, as if it meant to keep secrets. The air smelled of cedarwood and the faint trace of smoke from the hearth. Underneath that, it ca
