The chamber Selene stepped into smelled of cloves and parchment, with all its expensive, lacquered wood and thick velvet curtains designed to drown out the rest of the world.
Her father, Lord Alderic, stood with his back to her, studying the flames in the hearth like they held secrets he'd misplaced.
She didn't wait for him to turn.
"You promised me, Father," Selene said in a calm and clipped voice. "You said the Council would handle her. You said she'd be dealt with."
Lord Alderic didn't flinch. "The King made his ruling. We don't have the numbers to push back without destabilising the inner circle."
"We will if you withdraw your troops," Selene said, stepping forward. "The route to the northern pass. Your trade guards, your reserve soldiers. If you cut them—all of them—they'll feel it. And the people will feel it too."
"You're suggesting I starve the city?"
