The morning sun had barely cleared the eastern peaks when Nila walked into the small family dining room. The air inside the residential wing was crisp, carrying the rich, smoky scent of fresh coffee and fried salt-pork from the kitchens.

Nila adjusted the collar of her dark blue wool dress, the softer, wider neckline leaving her left shoulder exposed to the cool air of the room. Against her pale skin, the fresh crimson crest of Kaelen's mark stood out clearly, a neat, intricate line that had finally stopped throbbing and had settled into warmth that thrummed in time with her pulse. Through the bond, she could already feel Kaelen’s presence...