The enormous tent rose from the desert, a crimson-and-gold monolith against the pale sand. Taller than any tower at Iron Claw, the bright fabric was stretched over carved poles, fastened with beautifully spun, heavy ropes. Lanterns hung from the supports, soft arcs of warm, honeyed light that cast gentle shadows against the silked walls adorned with embroidered wolves and moons.
Lyra swallowed, her throat thick as she stood just inside the entrance. Her hand tightened around Kaela’s instinctively. The younger girl stared openly, mouth parted in awe and shock. “Is this… is this for us?”
Lyra nodded slowly, trying to make her mouth work. “For appearances,” she managed quietly. Merrow was putting his best foot forward.
Servants glided across thick rugs laid over the hot sand. Music mingl
