By the time it was night in the Frostlands, Kieran was tired .

The day had been exhausting in a way that no battlefield could match. Endless councils, all arguing in circles. Elders smiling while sharpening knives behind backs. Reports high about supply lines, patrol breaches, trouble in the villages, rumors about Lyra’s reforms spreading faster than anyone expected. Change always did this.

His right hand hurt under the linen as . A maid carefully worked on it, her fingers gentle. The cut ...