The morning after the envoy's departure came with no trumpets, no warning only the sudden hush of tension settling over the courtyard like mist. Aria stood at the window of the war chamber, her breath clouding against the glass. Beyond the walls, the forest whispered, restless and agitated.
Kael joined her with the ease of habit, his presence grounding. "Scouts returned. Something's wrong at the border near Grayfall. The signal fires never lit."
Aria turned sharply. "What do you mean never lit?"
Kael handed her the scout's report, a hastily written scroll, smudged with blood and dirt.
"No response. No survivors. We think it was wiped out."
Aria scanned the contents, each line making her chest tighten. Grayfall was a neutral territory, a trade junction critical to maintaining peace. If someone had attacked it
"This wasn't Ronan's doing," she whispered. "His forces are scattered. Broken. Someone else is making moves."
Kael nodded. "And they knew exactly where to strike."
