It wasn't Nancy.
It was a guard—mud on his boots, eyes downcast—holding Aaron's signed order like it was a scrap from a feast he wasn't invited to.
“Where is she?" Isabella asked.
“Still in holding," he muttered. “They… haven't processed her release yet."
Aaron followed him in, shutting the door behind them. “There's a delay."
“Delay?" Isabella's voice was too calm for the heat flooding her chest. “You sent an order with your seal. That's not a request. That's law."
He rubbed his temples. “Samantha's captain is dragging his feet—claims he needs clearance from her directly. If I push too hard, it'll be public, and the council—"
“The council doesn't hang in that cell," she cut in. “Nancy does."
---
Aaron paced like a man caged in his own command. “If we go in swinging, it looks like
