"But we should have," Viviannah insisted. "We should have done something. Anything. Instead, we stood aside and let you face it alone."
"Not alone," Rena interjected from where she stood beside Jaenor. "He had us. He's always had us."
Viviannah looked at the small woman, recognition flickering.
"You were there that night. One of his companions."
"I was. And I am." Rena's tone was firm. "Whatever guilt you're carrying, that's your burden. But don't presume to tell us what we needed or didn't need that night."
He offered the letter to Jaenor. The seal was unmistakable—the imperial crest, marked with additional symbols that identified it as coming specifically from the royal family rather than general imperial administration.
Jaenor took it carefully, noting how the Beaumonts watched him with renewed nervousness.
"Who gave this to you?" he asked.
