The crow arrived at dawn — not gliding on ordinary wings, but bearing the Court's own crimson seal pressed into black wax, sharp as a blade.
Lira broke it with trembling fingers. Inside, a single line in the Seer's precise, unhurried hand:
The Council has heard of the Everblood. They will not wait for a hearing that favours you. Silas has offered them proof, and proof is more persuasive than promises. Come to the Court by nightfall,
or be named an enemy of old law.
Arian's jaw locked as he read it over her shoulder. "They're not asking anymore."
"Can they actually do this?" Lira's voice was quieter than she meant it to be, the paper trembling faintly between her fingers.
"They can try." His voice was low, dangerous in a way she hadn't heard before — not the careful restraint of a man
