The emissaries arrived at dawn, their cloaks smelling faintly of polished wood and stale parchment. They moved like a fleet of judgment, silent and careful, flanked by two enforcers who needed no introduction. Word spread through the fortress like cold wind, Lysandra herself rode in the front, High Warden Edris at her flank, and behind them a knot of council clerks who carried more seals than smiles.
Kael met them on the outer step with measured restraint. He offered formal hospitality because that's what kept volatile things tidy especially when the volatile thing was a woman who had just ended a tyrant. The emissaries accepted food and shelter with the practiced politeness of those who knew how to hold a blade under the table.
