The air in the Great Hall of the Aldenar Estate was smelling of pine needles and the crackling woodsmoke from the massive fireplace. To anyone else, the chill might have been biting, but to Verona, it was the scent of safety.
Verona sat in her private study. A stack of trade ledgers lay open in front of her, filled with the sprawling mathematics of silver exports and wool tariffs, but her mind was miles away. She was staring out the arched window at the falling snow, her chin resting in the palm of her hand.
Elric's birthday.
The thought echoed in her mind with a sweetness that almost frightened her. It was coming soon. This would be the first time they truly celebrated it as a couple, not as two strangers bound by a cold, political contract, but as partners who had bled, fought, and survived together. She wanted to give him something that reflected that transformation. Something that wasn't just for the Duke, like a hollow piece of jewelry, or a display of wealth.
