Serena still was not entirely sure why she had been brought along beyond vague notions of "goodwill" and "representation." The reasoning had seemed thin even when Ryker delivered it. Yet as she walked among the townsfolk now, their eyes bright with curiosity, their whispers filled with both awe and uncertainty, she began to understand.
As they approached the hall, Serena could not help but note the way Livia carried herself. There was grace, yes, but also an underlying weariness, one that Serena recognised far too well. The burden of diplomacy was a quiet, consuming one.
They entered the hall together. The scent of aged wood, hearth smoke, and faint perfume filled the air. High beams arched overhead, and tapestries depicting Ironshade's long history hung along the walls, wolves mid-hunt, ancestral crests, great moons in silver thread.
A table was set near the hearth, its surface polished and adorned with simple earthenware cups.
