Trumpets blared at dawn. Soldiers scrambled into ranks, armor clanking like war drums echoing across the frozen gorge.
In the center pavilion, a black carriage creaked to a halt. Gold moon emblems shimmered against the dark lacquer. The guards fell to one knee as a figure stepped out—draped in layered silver robes, her face veiled, her presence chilling.
High Priestess Selene had arrived.
Leo stood at the edge of the war camp, arms folded as she approached.
“Your Eminence," he said flatly.
“General." Her voice rang like frost on steel. “I hear you've acquired a... special healer."
“She saved my life."
“Or planted a spell beneath your skin." Selene's lips curled under the veil. “You've grown soft."
Leo didn't flinch. “She's under control."
“Then prove it." Selene handed him a scrol
