Judgment began after sunrise. Lucian was still in the infirmary. Alive. Stable enough that the healer no longer used the word critical. Not well enough to sit in a hall.

This was not his judgment to watch from a throne. Frostmere Hall had survived the fighting with

Three weeks after the judgment, Lucian stood in the great hall without an Alpha cloak. He still moved carefully. The healer had cleared him to walk, work, and be irritating. Not to fight.

Isolde had asked the healer specifically. I had not. She told me the answer anyway

Leo called me Mom while looking for a red crayon. That was all. No audience. No ceremony. No one had asked him to practice.

We were in the ambassador wing sitting room after breakfast, surrounded by paper, broken crayons, and one wooden horse that had somehow ac