The evening mist clung to House Goldenvale's estate like a shroud, transforming the normally welcoming gardens into something that felt ominous and uncertain.
Duke Theron Goldenvale stood at the great window of his private study, watching shadows move through grounds that had been in his family's possession for over three centuries.
The weight of the morning's revelations at the academy still pressed against his consciousness, but it was the image of Edmund Riverside's severed head that truly haunted his thoughts.
Random selection, he thought grimly. Could be any family, any week.
The duke had spent the afternoon in emergency session with his family council, trying to prepare for possibilities that conventional planning couldn't address.
How did one prepare for a visit from someone who had demonstrated capabilities that transcended every framework they used to measure power?
