His violet eyes — scanning the room, the corridor, the palace — found something. Someone. A woman. Standing by the wall. A guard. A knight. A female knight.
She was tall. Not as tall as the Empress. Taller than most women. Five feet ten. Her body was lean. Athletic. The muscles — not bulky, not thick, but visible, defined — were the muscles of a fighter. A swordswoman. Her hair was dark. Short. Cropped. Practical. Her face was angular. Sharp. The cheekbones high. The jaw strong. Her eyes were brown. Her skin was tan. Her armor — light, leather, the kind that allowed movement — was worn. The sword at her hip was long. Straight. The weapon of a knight.
Her name was Elena.
She had joined the ranks. The royal guard. The Empress's guard. She had been recruited — not by the Empress, but by Raven's people. By Ada. By the network that Raven had built. She had been tested. She had been approved. She had been placed.
Raven walked toward her.
