Moonbound
Only his eyes betrayed him—they were too awake, too alive.
“You came,” he said quietly.
“You asked me to stand beside you,” she replied. “I’m doing as told.”
His mouth twitched, almost a smile. “You rarely do anything as told.”
“Maybe I’m learning diplomacy.”
“Or strategy.”
“Same thing in this house, isn’t it?”
Before he could answer, the council doors opened. Voices spilled out—male, clipped, carrying the scent of authority and money. The Valehart Board of Trustees was not a parliament. It was a court built to disguise its claws.