Chapter 47

Ronan's POV

Mara did not sleep that night.

She reorganized coalition supply routes at midnight, reviewed Darius's files at one, argued with Soren about founder translations at two, and at three in the morning stood in my bedroom holding two cups of tea as if there were a perfectly ordinary administrative decision.

I opened the door wider. "Is this official coalition business?"

"Absolutely."

"You are wearing socks with wolves on them."

"Diplomatic socks." I stepped aside.

She entered, put one cup on my desk, and sat in the chair opposite the bed.

"You can sit somewhere less formal," I said.

"This is safer."

"From what?"