Night settled over the estate with a cold hush. Lucien's study remained lit long after the halls had gone quiet, the map of Petra still stretched across the desk like a wound needing stitching.
Rowan returned just past midnight, the scent of travel dust on his cloak and a dark look in his eyes.
"You were right," he said, throwing down a folded parchment. "Caelum isn't just an envoy. He was once part of Valtoria's intelligence branch, serving directly under High Chancellor Mavric."
Lucien's brow furrowed. "A spy?"
"Likely still one," Rowan said grimly. "And guess what else he was in Petra three years ago. Part of a covert mission during the coastal siege."
Lucien's fingers tightened. "So they're not just here for peace."
"No. They're watching you, Lucien. And they want Liora at the center of it. Either to draw her out or use her."
Lucien's voice was a whisper. "They think I'm weak."
"They think she is," Rowan corrected.
Lucien's jaw clenched. "They'll be disappointed."
