Vencian stood in the gardens a while longer, watching the palace windows glow as if nothing inside them could ever fracture.
The thought of Terin's last words refused to settle.
A council member, here, tonight. During an engagement that had drawn half the realm into one building. The Pentarch did many things quietly, methodically, but this felt careless, like crossing a board without checking the opposing pieces.
It did not fit.
Vencian turned the idea over again, slower this time, pressing at its seams.
A royal palace swarmed with guards, priests, nobles, and watchers. A meeting here would leave too many eyes, too many paths that could intersect by chance. Even arrogance had limits.
Maybe Terin had lied.
It was the possibility from the start but Vencian didn't want to believe in it. But the more time passed with the normalcy, the more probable it seemed.
