Chapter 129

Mara’s POV

The first night after the Seventh Seat broke, I pushed a chair beneath the door of my room. Ronan slept farther along the passage. I knew the Crown could no longer turn his fear into an order, yet my body listened for the old pressure every time footsteps passed outside. In the morning he asked whether I had slept. I said a little. He did not look toward the chair when I moved it aside.

For three days the First House filled with ordinary sounds the old rulers had once considered untidy. People argued in the archway, brought lunches to guards whose shifts ran late, and wrote letters to neighboring towns asking for help with wards that had gone dark. Soren and Elara copied the older instructions. I read each copy beside its source because neither of them, especially Soren, wanted me to accept a translation on faith. When the Frostmere mill workers chose a new ice warning, they sent the