The sitting room quickly transformed into a high-stakes command center as Morwyn summoned the Master-at-Arms, a massive, stoic elf named Faelar, and a veteran sorceress specializing in magical dampening, Lady Elara. Torian, now wearing a practical, high-collared elven gambeson instead of his silk tunic managed everything.
“Torian did not want to believe you would put yourself in danger, despite your actions at last year’s solstice, or I would’ve already had this in your wardrobe,” Morwyn had explained to me when she and I returned to the suite. She had helped me change into a pair of gray pants and a gambeson of my own. Black leather boots were laced up to my knees, and a black leather belt was secured around my waist, and she draped a fur-trimmed cloak over my shoulders to conceal the s
