[Meredith].
A month had passed.
For the first time in a long while, Stormveil felt peaceful, the kind that was steadier. The kind that settled after chaos had been resolved, when everything that needed to be done had already been completed.
Yesterday, I received my grandmother's letter. I had read it more than once.
"Tomorrow is a blessed day." That was how she began.
Then, further down, she mentioned Draven—said the fae would be willing to help him secure the Great Wall, though under certain conditions she would only reveal when they met.
That part didn't surprise me. What lingered in my mind was the last line.
"My dear, Edith… congratulations to you and yours."
I still didn't understand it. At first, I thought it was because of everything that had happened—my long-standing enemies we had crushed, the stability we had restored.
It would make sense for her to acknowledge that, and yet, something about it felt different.
—
