After breakfast, Rowan Halvine summons his son to his private office, along with Darius, the head captain of the Halvine knights and one of the few men he trusts without question.
The room is hushed, shut away from the noise of the castle. Morning light filters in through tall windows, pale and cool, cutting across the stone floor in long bands. The hearth burns low, more for warmth than light, its embers glowing faintly. Tall shelves heavy with ledgers and records line the walls, most of them untouched, their spines gathering dust.
Rowan stands by the window, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze fixed on the courtyard below. Servants and guards move across the stone, unaware of the tension gathering above them. He doesn't turn when the door closes behind Lucien and Darius, but the set of his shoulders makes it clear.
"Darius," he says at last, without turning, "I want another doctor brought in. Not the one stationed in the castle."
