Once more, the world had a fresh scent. The air was clean and heavy with the smell of pine and damp stone after the rain had passed through the night. Dawn slowly moved across the valley, erasing the storm's scars from the flagstones and painting the stronghold spires a delicate gold.

Elaria woke before the bells.

The silence was different this morning—not heavy, not mournful. Just quiet. The kind that feels like a breath between two heartbeats.

For a bit, she lay motionless, observing the ...