Spring brought a vibrant, golden thaw to the Shadowfall Valley, melting the lingering mountain ice into rushing rivers that filled the keep's lower fountains.
From the high arched balcony of the Envoy Chamber, I watched the morning sun reflect off the black obsidian towers of the fortress. At twenty-nine, my life had settled into an unshakeable rhythm of purpose and authority. The Neutral Alliance now encompassed over thirty regional territories, bound together by strict economic agreements and humanitarian mandates that ensured no child, outcast, or lower-ward citizen could be discarded by tyrannical pack governance.
I adjusted the silver brooch pinning my navy velvet mantle, stepping back into the spacious council room where Lord Malakor and three senior diplomats were organizing the a
