At the same time, within the Northern Command of the Shadow Guard, Rhaegar Thorne felt an inexplicable unease seize his heart.
He lifted a hand to his brow, pressing lightly against the bone above his left eye. He was a man of measured composure, rarely given to such restless foreboding—yet now, a sudden disquiet had taken hold of him, sharp and inexplicable.
Lance Illian noticed at once.
"My lord… are you unwell?"
"It is nothing," Rhaegar said, though his gaze had already sharpened. "Take men at once and investigate the perimeter of the Valehart estate. See if there has been any unusual movement today."
"Yes, my lord."
Lance departed swiftly.
In less than half the time it took for a thin candle to burn, he returned at full gallop.
