It was time to go as Verona stood near the heavy arched doors, the hem of her dress swirling around her ankles. She felt Elric's presence behind her, a solid, protective shadow that seemed to radiate a low-thrumming impatience. He was ready to leave, to retreat to their own townhouse, but Verona wasn't finished.
You don't walk into the lion and witch's den and leave without offering a tribute that proves you belong among the hoard.
"Before we go," Verona said, her voice cutting through the clinical stillness of the hall. She turned back toward Calixto and Yelena, who stood like statues carved from the very foundations of the North.
She stepped toward Calixto first. She'd spent days combing through the fragmented anecdotes Elric had dropped during their late-night talks, pieceing together the gaps in the Aldenar library.
