Hevenfort has grown quiet.
The clang of steel, the sharp commands of commanders, and the shuffle of armored boots had faded into the night—replaced by the soft rustle of wind-blown leaves and the flicker of torchlight that danced across the stone corridors like restless spirits. Outside, soldiers prepared their minds for the journey to the north, and couriers ran their final messages.
But in the western wing of the palace, behind heavy oak doors and velvet silence, time slowed.
Lara stood alone at the edge of a quiet balcony Alaric had built for her—her chamber crafted with the same precision and reverence as his own quarters at Helias Manor. It was her space whenever she visited Hevenfort, a quiet haven of light and wind.
