The altered seal felt heavier than it should have, a small piece of brass that carried the weight of treason.
Cassia walked the corridors back to the ducal wing not as a wife returning to her husband, but as a hunter bringing proof of a venomous snake living in their own walls. The torches cast long, dancing shadows that seemed to writhe like the serpent on the seal, and every distant footstep made her flinch.
The door to Jeric's chambers was ajar. He was not pacing as she expected. He stood by the cold hearth, staring into the dead ashes as if they held the answers he couldn't find.
The tension in his shoulders was visible even from across the room, a rigid line of defeat that was so unlike him it made her chest ache.
He didn't turn when she entered. "I've ordered the lockdown. Verin is drafting the official decree. It will cause panic."
"It will cause conversation," she corrected, her voice soft. "That's what Virel is afraid of."
