Chapter 111. The Last Summons

The summons came folded like a blade.

A courier in Conclave grey placed it in my palm without quite meeting my eyes. The wax was white, stamped with a crescent and a single thread of hair burned into the seal—the Moon’s way of saying this wasn’t advice, wasn’t optional, wasn’t even a request.

Kael read it over my shoulder, the line of his jaw tightening until it felt sharp enough to cut my ear.

“They want you at the Moon Hall by sundown. Alone.”

“Not alone,” I said. “Announced.”

He huffed, low. “Same difference if they lock the doors.”

Syra was already strapping on her greaves, movements brisk and irritated. “I’ll take the outer ring,” she said. “If they mean well, I’ll drink with them. If they don’t, I’ll redecorate.”

The Moon Hall rose pale in the slanting light, all clean lines and cold shadow. Elen waited at the entrance with her hair unbound and her crown nowhere in sight. That was new. When she bowed, it wasn’t court-low—it was work-lo