Mary had just finished praying that morning when the letter reached her. Her heart was still heavy with her second son still missing.
There had been a few leads, but each time they got to the location, they would miss the time for rescue.
The wind was cold that morning. It moved slowly through the tall trees of the courtyard where she sat, a shawl drawn tight around her shoulders. A servant knelt and offered the sealed letter. The royal seal was still intact.
She knew at once it was from Edward.
Mary dismissed the servants and broke the seal herself. As she read, her calm face slowly changed. The rumors she had already heard in the fourth region were vague—whispers of bloodlines, the chaos on an excursion ground, being far from the royal city meant the news was never accurate.
But Edward's letter laid everything bare.
Ernest.
Ironhaven.
The nobles shifting.
The court divided.
By the time she reached the end, her hands had gone cold.
"So it has come to this," she murmured.
