The moon hung low and thin when the heavy gates of Ravensdale creaked open under cover of night. Two cloaked figures slipped through the side entrance, their boots muffled on the damp stone. Isolde led the way, her sharp features hidden beneath a travel hood, while Edmund stumbled behind her, reeking of cheap tavern wine and yesterday's gambling losses.
Madam Hale waited in the shadowed courtyard lantern, her face splitting into a grateful, almost worshipful smile the moment she recognized her cruel former mistress.
"Oh, my lady Isolde! Thank the gods you've returned at last!"
