Chapter 20. The Shape of a Cage (2)

They returned from the garden in slow, measured steps. The silence that followed Kaelen’s departure was no longer measured, but heavy, thick with the unspoken politics of the stronghold. The sky had begun to deepen into late afternoon, and the gold light slanted low across the floors of the eastern corridor. The air here was cool, smelling faintly of old wax and polished oak—the scent of money and tradition. Eleanor’s footsteps were nearly silent, carrying the gravity of a queen accustomed to being followed.

Eleanor paused near a tall, arched doorway framed in carved stone, a threshold that seemed more like a triumphal arch than a simple entrance. She pointed without ceremony, her hand perfectly steady.

“These,” she said, her voice tinged with quiet pride, “are the Luna’s quarters. They are being prepared for you.”

Mira stepped closer, peering inside. The room beyond was beautiful—impossibly so. Rich silks in silver and storm-blue framed the tall, arched windows, c