That night, after Soren had been to all the Council and King's meetings for several days, he was relaxing on his glass palanquin with a brown paperback book open on his lap. The night wind was cold and crisp. The snow had stopped tonight, but he was worried about last night's snowfall.
Aethel was standing next to him, and her eyes showed a lot more respect than before.
"I hope you will be satisfied that the shipment has now been diverted, Your Honor." She whispered. "The Northern Lieutenants had received the 'Iron'. They knew what to do with it."
Soren nodded, his fingers tracing the edges of the book. He found another mention of Queen Lysanthir. It said, 'She didn't fight the roots with fire, she fed them until they choked on their own greed.'
