The gates of Vireloch opened before dawn.
The wind was colder here. Sharper. Like a blade that had missed her while she was gone and now tested her again.
Zareena rode in silence at the head of her small party. The streets were not empty, not anymore. Children peeked through windows. Traders paused in their setup. Soldiers on the watchtower stiffened to attention.
She didn't wave. She didn't smile. But her presence carried weight—like the return of something that had become myth in her absence.
Inside the keep, the garrison waited in loose formation. Familiar faces. Loyal ones. They didn't cheer. They didn't need to. A shared look passed through them like a spark through dry grass.
She was home.
And then she moved swiftly, like she never left.
By noon, supply records were on her desk. Troop reports. Updates on the mine. Letters unopened stacked like towers on her shelf.
Nasir appeared beside her without being summoned.
She didn't look up.
"You've been quiet."
"I was told not to draw attention."
"Good." She handed him a sealed scroll. "I need you to deliver this."
He took it without question. But his eyes flicked to the seal—plain, unmarked, not even hers.
"South or east?"
"South first. Then wait in Althis until the next signal."
"What's in the letter?"
Zareena met his eyes finally, her expression unreadable. "A test. For loyalty. And for ambition."
He tucked the scroll into his coat. "And if they fail?"
Her voice was like frost. "Then we'll know who the real enemies are."
As he turned to go, she added, "No names. Not even mine. You're no longer from Vireloch until I say otherwise."
"Understood."
When he was gone, she stepped to the window. Snow was coming. She could smell it in the air.
Behind her, the war room table waited with new maps. Old ones too. Updated by hand, with reports of troop movement near the low passes—Marcerov's crest seen in places it should not be.
But that could wait a few more hours.
For now, she watched her people move like clockwork below—mining, training, trading—and let herself feel it.
Vireloch was growing. Stronger.
And the world was watching