Five years turned the valleys greener and the children taller. Lila had reached fifteen with a stride that commanded attention. She led her first solo border negotiation with the Stormborn Clan on a crisp autumn morning.
Magnus Kristoffersen waited at the old meeting stone with his warriors. His presence filled the clearing, broad shoulders and sharp gaze marking him as a leader who had risen through blood and cunning. I watched from a respectful distance with the kings while Lila stepped forward alone.
She carried herself with natural authority. At fifteen she had grown into her role as heir, her shielding gift refined through years of disciplined practice.
Thorne and Elara, thirteen now, stood beside me. Thorne observed the meeting with quiet focus. Elara kept her healing touch ready in case tensions flared. The kings remained close, their presence a steady anchor through the bond.
