Golden afternoon sunlight filtered through the closed window, wrapping the study in a hushed, amber warmth.
Rosalind sat in her study. A single candle burned on the desk, crackling softly as the melted wax dripped down. She tilted the candle just enough to pour a small pool of wax onto an envelope, then swiftly pressed the Valemont seal into it.
A gentle knock came at the door before it opened, revealing Maera in a simple ash-gray dress.
"My lady," the older woman bowed.
"We've finished clearing the western wing. Beds, blankets, and firewood have all been brought in. Everything is ready to receive the townspeople."
Rosalind nodded, her lashes lowering slightly. "That's good… You've worked hard, Maera."
"I am always happy to serve, my lady."
Her hands had curled into fists on her lap, nails digging into her palms—she hadn't even noticed. "Ah—could I trouble you to send this letter for me?"
Rosalind handed over the freshly sealed envelope.
