Chapter 42: The Forge of Unity
The Silverfang Keep transformed over the next week. The air, once heavy with the grim purpose of a military command post, now crackled with a frenetic, festival energy. It was a deliberate, calculated shift, and Lyra stood at the center of it, a conductor orchestrating a symphony of persuasion.
She stood in the main courtyard, a tablet in one hand, her other hand gesturing towards a team of decorators who were hanging silver-and-onyx banners—the colors of Silverfang—interwoven with strands of crimson and gold to honor their Crimson Paw guests.
"Not there," she called out, her voice cutting through the din without needing to shout. "The banner should catch the light from the grand entrance. We want the symbolism of our strength to be the first thing they see, but the interwoven colors to be a promise of what's inside."
