The territory did not settle after dawn.
If anything, the quiet felt sharper—like the pause between breaths when the body knows something is about to move again. Aurelia sensed it the moment she woke, before her eyes even opened. The bond beneath her skin was not restless, not alarmed, but attentive in a way that made stillness feel temporary.
She lay on her back, staring at the low stone ceiling of the guest chamber the council had assigned her. Assigned, not offered. The distinction mattered.
Beyond the narrow window, the sky was pale and colorless, clouds stretched thin and high, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
Someone had been listening.
Not last night.
Not at the trial.
Long before that.
Aurelia pushed herself upright, letting her feet touch the cold floor. The seal on her wrist pulsed faintly as she moved—not a warning, not a command. A reminder. The power did not surge when she woke anymore. It waited.
Choice had changed everything.
