The hall was empty except for the soft tapping of Ethan’s boots against polished stone.
He had asked to speak with her.
Not her aide.
Not her proxies.
Her.
And this time, Sophia had agreed.
No conditions.
No audience.
Just the two of them.
Which terrified him more than any council chamber or battlefield ever had.
He found her waiting in the formal meeting suite of the Crestwood Citadel’s upper wing. Through the glass-paneled walls the light shone in and colored her figure with trembling tints of gold and shadow. She stood before the window motionless with her arms crossed.
She didn’t turn when he entered.
Ethan paused a few steps behind, taking a quiet breath.
“I’m not here to argue,” he said.
Her silence hung heavy.
“I know things have been tense—hostile, even. I deserve so
