The gates of Varyn Keep groaned under the weight of their iron hinges as the riders approached, the screeching sound echoing across the courtyard. Alaric barely slowed his horse, letting the animal’s hooves pound against the cobblestones. Each step brought him closer to home, yet a strange tension had settled over him during the long ride back from Goldtower. Diplomacy, he reminded himself, was a slow, careful game delicate words, fragile agreements, promises that could shatter in a heartbeat.And yet, even as the treaty had been signed, the ink barely dry on the parchment, he had felt unease curling inside him like smoke. A whispering sense that something had shifted in his absence, though he could not pinpoint what. A shadow that he could not yet name.Corvin rode beside him, stretching his shoulders and shaking his head with exaggerated relief. “Finally,” he groaned. “Back to civilization. I feared Goldtower might suffocate me with all that etiquette and endless bowing.”Edric’s li
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