Isabell's silvery eyes swept across the scene in the tavern's common room, taking in dozens of details in an instant; Liam kneeling like a loyal retainer who had just confessed to treason, Ashlynn radiating barely controlled fury, Ollie looking pale but standing, and three nervous young people clustered by the door like sheep who'd stumbled into a wolf's den.
Her gaze lingered on the collection of young aristocrats for a moment, and something in her expression softened. Morwen and Cadeyrn were close in age to Isabell's own children, and seeing them standing there looking so uncertain produced a pang of maternal worry for Issandra and Lassian.
