Nila stood in her quarters, the heavy wooden tube containing Gideon's treasonous scroll resting safely on her cedar vanity table right beside her mother’s silver brooch. She had finally changed out of her training gear into a soft, midnight-blue wool dress, her dark hair brushed out in loose waves that fell past her shoulders.

Kaelen walked into the room from the adjoining solar, carrying a small stone jar of comfrey salve for the shallow gash on his shoulder.

"Marcus has the horses prepped for the dawn ride to the Citadel," Kaelen said, setting the stone jar down on the vanity. He stepped up behind her, his large hands settling onto...