The next day,

Author

The training yard at Blackwood Villa had been cleared of every obstacle, every onlooker, every trace of ceremony that might have made this feel like a performance rather than a promise. Only thirteen stood in the center, arranged in a perfect circle, their weapons laid before them on the cold flagstones. Aria waited at the north edge, Malphas a silent shadow at her shoulder, Silas and the Blackwood lords watching from the stone archway - invited only to witness, not to lead.

The air was still. No trumpets blew. No banners waved. This was exactly how Aria had wanted it - short, unadorned, and absolutely binding....