~IAN~

Kiva followed me back from the audience chamber, quiet as ever, though I could feel her gaze tracing the curve of my spine. Once inside, she moved around the chamber with brisk purpose, tending to the basin like a woman trying to wring the thoughts from her fingers.

I was barefoot. Dehydrated. My tunic clung to my chest – not just from the sweat the scorching purple sun poured through the glass panes, but from the tension coiled in me like wire since Luna Vashti's summon.

Lazhara.

That ...