A while later, the conversation shifted towards the brewing war between the Empire and its rival. Maps were unrolled across the polished surface of the table, and voices rose in hushed discussions of battle strategies, troop movements, and the political intricacies that would determine the outcome.
Nathaniel, ever composed, held the floor . His mind was sharp, his decisions unyielding. But Evelyn—sitting quietly by his side—felt like an outsider in the world of power and bloodshed. The talk of war was alien to her. She had no taste for it, no stomach for the strategy of violence, and yet she was here, her role as the wife of the supreme commander casting her into this sea of bloodlust.
Her eyes skimmed the table, but it was Cassandra Vale—who noticed first. Her sharp gaze flicked briefly to Evelyn before returning to the discussion at hand.
