The high hall of the Bone City was built to make people feel small.
White bone ribs held up a ceiling of dark glass. The sea moved under the glass like a living map. By the time we entered, the alliance had already filled the lower floor and the first terrace. Crimson Veil. Twin Petal. Ashen Court. Storm-belt captains. Archive scholars. A few late banners I did not know by name. They went quiet when they saw the group, then quieter when they saw there were no missing faces to count.
Lady Sable did not give us a procession. She pointed to the open space before the high seat and let the silence do the work.
"Report," she said.
Elizabeth spoke first. That was correct. The hall wanted a miracle. It needed a sequence.
