Power did not announce itself with violence.
Sometimes, it arrived quietly.
Elara learned that lesson the morning the council convened.
The room was larger than she expected. Long polished table. Tall windows overlooking the city. Men and women dressed in tailored suits, their expressions calm, controlled, and unreadable.
These were not soldiers.
These were decision makers.
Adrian took his seat at the head of the table without hesitation. Elara sat beside him, aware of every glance that slid in her direction. Curiosity. Judgment. Calculation.
“So this is her,” a man across the table said calmly. “The reason Ravenmoor declared open war.”
Elara did not flinch.
“Yes,” Adrian replied. “This is Elara.”
No title. No explanation.
That was intentional.
Another woman leaned back in her
