The early spring rains swept across the Shadowfall Valley, filling the mountain reservoirs and turning the lower meadows into a vibrant expanse of emerald green.
I stood at the high arched window of my private study, watching the rhythmic drumming of raindrops against the reinforced glass. On the expansive mahogany table behind me, three thick folios lay open, detailing the security protocols, economic frameworks, and diplomatic rosters for our upcoming journey to Grandos. The continental summit was now less than a month away, and every allied province under the Neutral Alliance banner required finalized defensive and administrative clearances.
A soft knock interrupted my focus, and Lord Malakor entered the room, holding a slender crystal slate containing the latest border transit logs.
