Astrid
Castleburg pulsed with energy when I returned.
They called me Sanguina Victor, the blooded conqueror. Some bent the knee with reverence, others with teeth clenched behind half-smiles. I stood on the dais while Salric delivered the tale of our ambush—how we tore through rogue wolves and ended Rowen with swift, righteous fury.
Their cheers felt like an echo. Distant. Hollow.
The court was packed tonight. High Lords in red-lined robes. Matrons of the old clans. And beyond them, the shadows. Watching. Measuring.
“She led the charge herself,” Salric finished, voice strong, eyes on the gathered elders. “No mercy. No hesitation. Castleburg stands safer because of her.”
A murmur of approval rippled through the chamber. Some clapped. A few bowed.
But I saw it.
The way their eyes slid
