20
Minutes later, I step into the mead hall. Dying light streams through the small window holes atop the peaked roof. A thin layer of hearth smoke lurks by the ceiling. The floor is packed with nobles. After the battle of the young lords, my people were more humiliated than angry. This time, all the faces contort with rage. Angry energy ricochets through the air.
The situation hangs by a thread. If I do the wrong thing here; it could be a disaster for Myla.
Pushing through the crowd, I find Mother and pull her aside. “Is Father coming?”
Mother winces. “He’s gotten an emergency communiqué and—”
“That’s fine. I’d rather he not be present.” I scan the crowd once more. My gaze lands on Cissy, Myla’s friend. I nod toward her. “I need that girl to leave.”
“Cissy Frederickson?” Mother frow
