The Valdrake carriage returned at dawn.
No horses this time.
That was worse.
The black carriage stood beneath the academy's central arch as if the night had grown wheels and forgotten to leave. No driver. No envoy. No void-thread horses. No Maeron Vale with white gloves and careful cruelty.
Just lacquered wood, silver wheels, drawn curtains, and the Valdrake crest on the door.
Closed eye.
Downward blade.
Crescent flame.
Waiting.
Students gathered at safe distances and pretended distance made them safe. Gold Hall scouts watched from the balcony. Obsidian students watched from the lower path. Servants moved in pairs and did not cross the arch. Brother Caldus appeared near the chapel steps, took one look at the carriage, and began praying in a tone suggesting the prayer was also a complaint.
I stood at the top of the academy steps with my left hand on the cane and my right hand gloved.
Seraphina stood beside me.
Veylan stood behind us.
