The morning following their secret pact brought an unsettling quiet to the Obsidian Citadel. From the high balcony of the Queen's solar, Amara watched the dense, purple mists of the Gloomwood roll against the lower battlements like the tide of a dead sea. Far below, near the iron gates of the outer bailey, two dozen Nightwatch scouts rode out on armored shadow-steeds, their black cloaks billowing in the freezing wind.…
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