Chapter 184

The question came sooner than expected.

It arrived not as an accusation or an act of violence, but as a request.

A formal one.

The messenger stood at the gates just past dawn, unarmed, cloaked in neutral gray. He did not shift. Did not bow. He simply waited until the guards acknowledged him and spoke only when Caleb himself arrived.

“I carry a petition,” the man said. “From those who have left.”

Caleb took the sealed parchment without ceremony. The wax bore no crest. ...