The next day,

Author

The last of the delegates had departed at dawn. The banners of the Great Packs had been taken down, the scribes had packed their scrolls, and the great hall had fallen quiet, its stone floors swept clean, its doors propped open to let in the fresh spring wind. Most expected Malphas to leave at once - to return to the Northern Sovereignty, to his throne, to the endless duties of a High King who ruled half the realm. Even Aria had assumed he would be gone by sunset, sending letters and envoys, visiting only when matters of state required it.

She was standing in the courtyard,...