She turned to look at Samuel, who was standing rigidly by the door, waiting for her command like a loyal, lethal shadow.
"Samuel," Heena spoke softly, her voice entirely devoid of its previous playful warmth. "Our family's northern iron convoy is about to be ambushed at the outer border. We are going to intercept them."
Samuel didn't even blink. He didn't ask how a sheltered, sickly young lady who had been resting in her bedroom for the last hour could possibly possess top-secret, real-time military intelligence. To him, his wife was an absolute enigma—a brilliant, calculating master who was always ten steps ahead of everyone else. If she said an ambush was happening, then blood was going to spill.
"Do you wish for me to alert the Grandfather's elite guard unit, My Lady?" Samuel asked, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his sword.
