The peace that followed the departure of the High Inquisitor was heavy. It was the kind of silence that falls after a thunderstorm when the air is still electric and the birds have not yet decided it is safe to sing.
Valeria stood on the battlements of the newly completed Oakhaven Manor. The stone was cold under her hand. Below her the valley was a hive of activity. The Bear refugees were expanding the fields. The World Tree pulsed with a steady and rhythmic light that turned the silver grass into a sea of mercury. It was beautiful. It was prosperous. It was a fortress.
But Valeria knew fortresses were built for a reason.
"You are brooding," a voice rumbled.
Kael joined her on the wall. He wore a simple tunic of roughspun wool that did little to hide the massive corded muscle of his frame. He leaned his elbows on the crenellations and looked out at the horizon.
