[SEASON—3]
[Lavinia's POV — Courtyard—Before Sunrise]
The air tasted of iron and coming storms.
What had been a marble garden of idle fountains now thrummed with the business of war. Rows of soldiers stood like a living wall beneath a bruised sky, armor catching the pale light and throwing it back as a thousand cold sparks.
Crimson and gold banners snapped overhead—Elorian stretched taut and ready, like a wound about to be opened.
Papa and I stood at the center of the upper balcony, the wind flaying my cloak into a flag of its own. From here I could see everything: men tightening straps, blacksmiths hammering red sparks bright as battle-flare, and riders jogging off with sealed orders. Messengers wove through the ranks like veins carrying heat to the heart of the army.
