Selene’s POV
The morning of the council broke pale and soundless.
Snow had drifted against the windows overnight, turning the world beyond them into a white blur. Inside, the fortress hummed with subdued activity—servants polishing brass, couriers hurrying through the corridors, elders whispering as they gathered their robes and documents.
From my window I could see the banners hanging stiff in the cold wind. The Ravaryn crest—a silver moon against black—looked faded, as though the years had leeched the strength from the cloth.
I let the sight harden my resolve.
Eryndor entered without ceremony. His dark robe brushed the floor like smoke.
“Everything is in place,” he said. “The ledgers are in the council chamber. The elders think today’s meeting is about taxes.”
“And Veyra?”
“She h
