The solar prepared for the afternoon gathering was nothing like the war rooms Aya had grown accustomed to.
There were no maps pinned to the walls, no scattered dispatches, no weapons laid within reach. Instead, sunlight streamed through tall, narrow windows and fell in gentle squares across woven rugs and low tables set with tea, sugared fruits, and delicate pastries she suspected required far more patience than any battlefield maneuver.
Aya paused just outside the doorway, one gloved hand resting lightly against the carved frame.
Inside, laughter rang - light, unguarded, and startlingly unfamiliar.
She had faced armies with steadier composure.
Behind her, Bason shifted, the great dog's heavy tail brushing the stone floor with a low thump. His massive head tilted as though sensing her hesitation. Aya exhaled softly and gave him a brief, reassuring stroke behind the ear.
"I know," she murmured. "This may be more difficult than war."
