[ThorenVald Estate—Balcony, Still Afternoon]
The silence after Sirella's words stretched long enough for the snowflakes to start layering on the railing between us.
I scratched the back of my neck, staring at the words on the page like they might sprout legs and walk me to the nearest elf. "...So you're telling me I need to find a race of sparkly forest people who went poof more than a hundred years ago."
"Yes," Sirella said flatly, her crimson eyes cutting to me. "If you want to stand a chance in what's coming."
I choked on nothing. "Stand a chance in what?! Don't just throw dramatic one-liners at me without subtitles!"
She didn't answer. Instead, her gaze flicked toward the courtyard below, where Roland barked at my knights like a mad general auditioning for a stage play. Then, softer—yet sharp enough to slice the cold air—she said,
