Anthea’s heels clicked on the polished stone as she moved through the corridor, her cloak sweeping behind her. She was still sore from her fall in Kieran’s chambers, though she had made sure no one noticed. Weakness was something she never showed.

She turned into a smaller chamber, one lined with shelves and maps, the room Calder favored for his private meetings. He was already there, standing by the window with his hands clasped behind his back. The fire was unlit. Only the gray morning ...