Aldric came at dawn.
Not with an army.
With a procession.
White banners lined with gold unfurled across the lower terraces of Veyl. Bells rang—not the Call of Binding, but something older and more insidious: the Summons of Sanctuary. A sound meant to soothe. To reassure. To convince the frightened that obedience was safety.
Anna felt it before she saw it.
“That sound,” she said quietly, standing at the edge of the ruined overlook. “It’s designed to calm the nervous system.”
Lexus’s jaw tightened. “It’s designed to make surrender feel like relief.”
Below them, Aldric advanced at the head of the procession, unarmored, hands bare, expression solemn. Priests walked beside him—not with chains, but with censers burning herbs that dulled magical resistance. Behind them came nobles, scholar
