DARIAN
The wind off the northern ridges still clings to my cloak as I stride into the pack house, but it isn’t the cold that tightens my jaw, it’s the way the servants go silent when I pass.
Whispers follow me down the hall, hushed tones and sidelong glances. They scatter when I turn my head, but not before I catch one word repeated under their breath.
Amaya.
Of course. Evelara must be busy. That must be why the rumor mill was working overtime.
I didn't expect to journey to the northern sector more than once, but I like to be thorough with things I've taken an interest in, especially things that are under my command.
By the time I reach my office, Lucian is already there, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, looking as if he’s been waiting for me.
“You’re back early
