Rowan's POV
The messenger arrived at dawn, dressed in pale silver rather than any colors I recognized from the surrounding territories, and the moment I saw the seal pressed into the sealed letter he carried, my entire morning reorganized itself around a single, unavoidable priority.
The crescent moon, three thin branching lines radiating from its center.
Identical to the mark spreading slowly across my own wrist.
I called the council together within the hour, the letter sitting unopened on the table in front of me until every senior warrior and advisor had assembled, and only then did I finally break the seal, unfolding the parchment with hands considerably less steady than I wanted them to be.
The message itself was brief, elegant, written in a careful, formal hand that carried none
