The third watch brought a suffocating silence to the high galleries of Valkoron castle. Outside, the night wind howled off the eastern sea, battering the black granite cliffs below and throwing fine salt-spray against the lower lancet windows.
Aurelia moved through the torchlit passages like a ghost wrapped in midnight-blue velvet. She wore no jewels, no silver crown, no high-born mantles that would rustle against stone. Only a slender, dark cloak pulled over her auburn hair and a silver-hilted stiletto concealed within the folds of her belt.
Even though she now knew the true reason why Rimea and her husband wants access to Valkoron vaults, Regardless....she already promised to speak with her traitorous brother. And she plans to keep to her word, hence her journey tonight to the lowest cells.
