The purge of the High Council swept through the Blackwood Citadel like a cold, cleansing northern wind. Within forty-eight hours, the silver crests of House Frost-Pike were stripped from the inner galleries, and the corrupt traditionalists who had bled the territory’s coffers for decades were marched under heavy vanguard guard to the lower iron mines.
In their place, Nora reorganized the Citadel's administration with terrifying efficiency. She appointed battle-tested commanders to oversee the border logistics, elevated honest union representatives from the labor guilds to manage the winter trade, and used the seized assets of the disgraced elders to double the food rations for the mountain villages.
By the end of the week, the Blackwood Citadel was no longer just surviving the winter—it
