At last the chamber was empty.

Elaria sat with her palms flat on the chilly council table in the silence that followed the chaos. Rhovan's pronouncement of the tribunal, snarls, and accusations had reverberated through the same wood hours prior. Now it was only the sound of her own breathing, steadying, fighting not to fray.

The silence was a lie. Outside these gates, she sensed the factions developing—the whispered deals, the shifted allegiances, the murmuring. The council might sleep, but ...