The Wolves' Empress.
He told himself he had done worse before, and the empire had survived because of it.
Still, the name echoed in his head.
Sierralya.
He pushed away from the table and crossed the room, stopping at the window. From here, the palace grounds looked calm. Orderly. As if nothing beneath them was rotting. As if there weren’t things buried so deep even he pretended not to remember them.
“She’s my daughter,” he said aloud, to no one.
The words didn’t change anything.
“Dismissed.”
The councilors filed out slowly. When the doors finally closed, he was left with just Caspian.
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