The war room in the eastern tower smelled of old stone, lamp oil, and the faint metallic tang of blood that never quite washed out of the rugs.
Maps covered the long table, pinned down by daggers and half-empty wine cups. Aiden stood at the head, shoulders squared, his voice steady as he outlined the next push into the Sky Dungeon. Lucifer's shadow flickered behind him like a living thing, hungry and restless.
Catherine sat to his right, back straight, armor polished to a mirror shine even though they weren't marching today. Her daughter Flora was beside her, younger face still soft around the edges despite the scars on her forearms.
Across the table, Sabrina leaned back in her chair, legs crossed, one hand idly spinning a throwing knife. Her daughter Luna sat next to her, eyes down, fingers twisting the hem of her sleeve.
