Dawn light draped the Citadel in soft hues of silver and rose. From a vantage atop the eastern tower, Thalen watched as Reuven's servants worked through the night to prepare the summit hall. Tapestries bore the Ascendant symbol alongside Black Crown's sigil two icons side by side, painted not in paralysis, but in purpose.
The summit would convene in three hours. Already, emissaries and advisors stirred through marble corridors. The mood was cautious: a fragile peace needing reassurance more than pomp.
Thalen stood before the dais in the summit hall, hands behind his back, the Blade That Breaks sheathed at his hip. The chamber's long table lay ready linen cloths freshly laundered, cups polished, quills and parchments laid neatly. On the far side, Captain Renal stood with two companions: a secretary holding scrolls, and a Crown envoy in ornate dark robes.
