The city below stretched in all directions, a marvel of ordered grandeur—marble streets glinting in the sunlight, the great river bisecting the capital like a vein of living silver, towers and domes rising in perfect symmetry. From this height, the empire looked eternal. But Valorina knew how fragile eternity could be.
She stood with her back straight, hands clasped before her. Her reflection in the window was sharp—cold eyes, still-beautiful mouth set in an expression of regal restraint. Her mind, however, churned. Defeat of an imperial princess. A foreign baron who refused exile. Two renowned women bound to him by something deeper than simple attraction. Power, influence, magnetism, danger—this Jolthar Kaezhlar was becoming a storm on the horizon of her carefully maintained empire.
"Summon the Minister of Intelligence," she said softly.
Lady Meridith bowed. "Immediately, Your Majesty."
