(Bardolph POV)
Daciana’s blood sank into the lower house floor, and the old wood opened for her like it had been waiting for her whole life.
No guard moved.
No elder spoke.
No Alpha breathed loudly enough to insult the moment.
I stood behind her with my hands closed into fists, because every instinct in me wanted to kneel beside her and every lesson learned too late told me not to.
This was not my discovery.
This was not Blackfang’s right.
This was not another thing my bloodline could touch first and explain afterward.
So I watched the woman I had once failed reach into the place her mother had trusted more than kings.
Daciana pulled out a bundle wrapped in plain servant cloth.
Not silk.
Not velvet.
Not royal blue.
Brown cloth.
The kind of cloth that had hidden her mother, h
