Moments later,

Author

Smoke clung thick to the west curtain wall, where the fighting had burned hottest and longest.

Aria stood over the makeshift triage line, her gaze sweeping over the wounded - some Northern clansmen, some mercenaries who had switched sides, three of her own. Her expression was as sharp and unyielding as the blade at her hip; no tremor in her hands, no hitch in her voice, no sign that her own heart was racing.

"Report," she said to Aurelian, who knelt beside Bram, pressing a glowing blue rune to the deep gash across the Taurus’s chest plate.

"Silver-laced ballista bolt," Aurelian said without looking up, his voice...