The charred, blackened ruins of the western wing were still smoking when the heavy iron war bells finally ceased their clamor.
Alpha Raymond had emerged from his high tower at dawn, his face a grim, terrible mask of stone. The roaring flames had come far too close to destroying the structural integrity of the entire fortress, and the sheer chaos had shattered what remained of his quiet isolation. He didn't issue commands to Victoria. He didn't look at Tanya. Instead, he summoned the High Imperial Investigators from the northern district, men bound by ancient oath, entirely immune to local pack politics and commanded a ruthless, full-scale inquiry into the origin of the inferno.
For twenty-four hours, the castle breathed a tense, suffocating silence.
On the second morning, every soul aff
