The council chamber in Athax had been built for certainty rather than noise.
Its old table was scarred with old knife marks and map pins, its banners heavy with age. Voices overlapped with practiced impatience as Aya entered - low, urgent tones that faltered just a breath when they noticed her.
Not silence. Just a shift.
Relief from some. Discomfort from others. Calculation from the rest.
She did not pause at the threshold as Killan guided her inside, his hand still on her lower back. Her guards, Masa and Bela, following behind. Aya crossed the chamber as though she had always belonged there, boots soft against the stone, cloak unfastened, crown absent. Only the steel-gray calm in her eyes marked her as their Queen.
Lord Thane straightened, lips thinning.
"I do believe," he began smoothly, "that we do not require representative Queens inside a war room. So if you may-"
