ZARAThe summit hall glows gold by the time I arrive, dressed simply, hair pinned low, nothing about me announcing who my father is.That's exactly how I want it tonight.Let them see a healer. A woman who works with her hands and knows her craft. Not an heiress. Not a prize. Not someone worth performing for.Lucas finds me near the entrance, offering his arm with a teasing smile. "You look like you're about to go to war, not a party.""Some parties are war," I say. "You just don't always get to bring weapons."He laughs, but there's real warmth beneath it, the kind I never had to earn in this family the way I had to earn everything in Alex's pack.The hall is full within the hour allied packs, dignitaries, healers, warriors dressed for diplomacy rather than combat. I move through it comfortably enough, greeting familiar faces, discussing herb shortages with an elder healer from the Ashwood territory, until I feel the air shift behind me.I know that shift.I've spent enough evenings
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