The low mountain that sheltered them from sight was little more than a ridge of stone and scrub, but to the weary group, it felt like a fortress.
Lucas lay near the fire, pale and unmoving, his body wrapped in thick cloaks. His breathing was faint but steady, and the Ice Belle hovered loyally above him, her crystalline wings giving off a soft, silvery light that shimmered across the cave walls. Occasionally she made small chirping sounds, brushing his face with her cold fingers, as if coaxing him to wake.
The Empress stood at the cave's mouth, her plain cloak fluttering in the chill wind. Even in such humble garments, her presence was regal. She gazed toward the city in silence, her expression unreadable beneath the veil.
Captain Varran approached from behind. "Your Majesty," he said quietly, stopping beside her, "my scouts report that the city gates have been sealed. Kenn has placed soldiers along every road leading out. They're searching for you."
