The truth was said in the great hall—though not the words, not the cry. Just felt. Known. Like the shiver one gets when they realize a fire has gone out, the knowledge remained.

Halvar had gotten away.

Melucia could not punish him. He was her blood after all. Halvar had vowed to destroy her to her face but she wasn't scared at all. He was the least of her worries now.

Gossip traveled like ink on vellum, poisoning the minds of nobles and servants alike. Melucia had not punished him. No ...