The man collapsed onto the gravel outside the gate, breathing steadily despite the blankness now occupying the last portion of his night.
Rhen stepped away.
By the time the guards dealt with him, he would be no more than a drunken human who had wandered onto a private road and passed out before reaching the property.
He would have no letter, no memory, and no story anyone would believe.
Rhen returned to the main room with rain still clinging to his coat.
The others remained gathered around the long oak table. Dax sat where Rhen had left him, while Cole stood beside the hearth and Malakai occupied the chair nearest the firelight, positioned so he could see each speaker clearly.
Rhen crossed the room and tossed the crumpled letter onto the table.
Dax looked at it.
“Well?”
“Human courier,” Rhen said. “Compelled to deliver it. He did not know the sender.”
Cole’s gaze moved toward the door.
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
Malakai lifted one eyebrow and signed,Mercy?
Rhen looked directly at him.
“Laziness.”
Dax picked up the letter, but Malakai held out his hand. Dax passed it across the table.
Malakai unfolded the paper and smoothed the deepest creases with his fingertips. His eyes moved along the lines before his expression hardened.
He placed the letter flat where the others could see it and signed.
They know Norse is alive. They know Leena’s death did not end Sule’s bloodline.
Dax swore quietly.
Cole’s shoulders stiffened.
Rhen lowered himself into the chair opposite them and stared beyond the table.
“They want the child,” he said.
Dax looked toward him.
“You think they would risk coming for a king’s son inside his own stronghold?”
Rhen’s gaze settled upon him.
“I think desperation makes people willing to die for very little.”
Malakai glanced down at the letter again.
Then we reinforce the perimeter, rotate the watches, and restrict access to the east wing.
