The early morning sun shone into the great hall of Redwood and turned long shadows upon the smooth rock pavement. Pine and lavender filtered through the air in a low smack, but even these scents could not hide the tension throughout the area.
Sophia arrived early.
Not because she needed to prove anything, but because power arrived before expectation.
She wore navy today—sharp, structured, precise. Her hair was drawn back, not tightly, but deliberately. Even her hair took warning, ready to feel there could be no pity in softness any more. The guards on the door, who had had some uncertainty about what to say to her on her return, bowed now readily.
One nodded with quiet respect. “Lady Sophia.”
The title was unofficial.
She accepted it anyway.
---
The assembly hall buzzed with quiet
