The tension at the North became more tense as the days went by. The three factions visited again.
All were received in Silvermoor's throne room on this particular day.
Three envoys stood before the raised dais where Aeron, Kael, and Theron sat in matching chairs of black oak. Seren stood to Aeron's left, not on the throne, but close enough to be seen as part of the decision. The council filled the benches behind her. Guards lined the walls.
The first envoy spoke first. She was an older wolf woman with grey-streaked hair and tired eyes. Her name was Freya, and she represented the villages that simply wanted the killing to stop.
"The northern territory bleeds," Freya said, her voice rough. "We lost our alpha. We lost our army. We lost our young men in a war that was never ours. Magnus promised us glory. He gave us graves." She looked directly at Aeron. "We want peace. Full integration into the kingdom. Your laws, your protection, your rule. No conditions."
