The missive arrived at dawn. A royal seal pressed into dark wax, the mark of the Velthorne crown unmistakable even from a distance. The messenger, a Praylor soldier, stood stiffly as he handed the letter to Lucian, his gaze shifting uneasily around the war camp. He had been traveling for weeks to find us.
Lucian broke the seal with steady hands, his expression unreadable as his eyes skimmed over the contents. The moment he was finished, he handed it to me without a word.
I took it carefully, already sensing the weight of what it contained. The parchment was thick, the ink bold and deliberate.
Lucian,
Your absence has stretched beyond what was reasonable. I trusted you to handle the negotiations with the North, but it has been too long. Our enemies move while you linger in a foreign land. Your duties to Praylor remain.
Return. Immediately.
—King Aldric Velthorne
I lowered the letter, exhaling slowly. "He's summoning you back."
