The first reports arrived at dawn, carried by exhausted riders whose horses foamed at the mouth and whose cloaks were stiff with frozen blood.
Seren felt the messenger before she saw him. The bond flared with sudden, sharp alarm from all three princes at once, Kael's battle-ready rage, Theron's cold calculation, Aeron's iron focus snapping into place like a drawn blade. She was halfway through pulling on a thick wool tunic when the outer door crashed open.
A young scout staggered into the antechamber, one arm bound in blood-soaked cloth, face pale beneath layers of dirt and frost. He dropped to one knee, breath sawing in his chest.
