At dinner, the roasted venison had been on the table for less than ten minutes before the first comment dropped.

Nila sat in the high-backed dining chair, her fork picking at a pile of roasted root vegetables. The small family dining room was much warmer than the great hall, tucked away in the residential wing of the fortress with a low ceiling and a hearth that smelled faintly of applewood. Across from her sat Kaelen’s father, who had spent the last two hours complaining about the dampness of the mountain roads since returning from his retreat at the southern springs.

Evelyn sat at the head of the table, calmly cutting...