Amara
The Great Hall buzzed with the noise of celebration.
Warriors raised tankards in victory, laughter echoing off the stone walls. Plates of roasted meats, sweet breads, and fruits covered the long tables. The scents of spiced wine and woodsmoke filled the air.
But beneath the revelry, a tension simmered, thick and hidden.
A hunt was unfolding — silent and unseen.
I stood near the dais with Lucian, dressed in a simple gown the color of the midnight sky. My hand rested lightly on his forearm, and I laughed when he leaned down to whisper something in my ear, a convincing show of distraction for those watching.
Inside, my stomach twisted.
We weren’t here to celebrate.
We were here to catch a traitor.
Across the hall, I spotted Idris slumped at a table, feigning drunkenness. He wav
