The hush of the funeral procession still clung to them as they reached the manor gates, thick and suffocating. Myhra watched the last of the shrouded figures slip inside, their movements too smooth, too unnatural. Her fingers tightened around her sword hilt.
"We're late for dinner," Carli muttered. With the Baroness back at the manor, she'd see her brother, Talen, and that meant they might finally get the answers they needed. Even so, her gaze lingered on the darkened windows above. "She won't be pleased."
Oda grinned and nudged Myhra with an elbow. "Unless our fearless Commander has a prior engagement? I hear earlier Third-Chair Lord Veylan's waiting at the florist. Real romantic spot for a tea party meet-up."
Myhra's glare could have frozen lava. "Veylan and I trained together. That's all."
