The woman entered without hurry.
She was tall enough that the severe cut of her ash-gray robes made her appear even narrower, almost austere, while her dark hair had been drawn away from her face and secured at the back without ornament. There was little about her clothing meant to attract attention at first glance. The fabric was excellent, certainly, but deliberately plain, its quality expressed through the precision of the tailoring rather than embroidery or jewels.
The cuffs told another story.
Three narrow bands of silver ran around each wrist, broken at regular intervals by small sigils worked directly into the cloth. They held no visible mana and produced none of the subtle pressure associated with enchanted equipment. They were older than that, regulatory marks whose authority came from what they represented rather than what they could do.
Selenne recognized them before the woman had taken her third step into the chamber.
The Magic Tower.
