Gunnar
The Great Chamber of the High Council was a tomb lined with velvet and black iron.
Every bench was filled. The High Lords of the four provinces sat in stiff, formal rows, their silk mantles draped over high-backed chairs, while court ministers and secondary lords crowded the upper galleries. At the far end, beneath my father's empty throne, sat my mother, Lilith, in crisp white lace that looked like frost against her dark hair. Beside her sat Lord Raymond, hands folded over his silver-topped cane, his grey eyes watching me with the patience of a vulture waiting for an old wolf to finally lie down.
I sat at the head of the long obsidian table, one palm flat against the cold stone.
I still hadn't found the intruder from two nights before. Whoever had knelt beside my washbasin with
