CHAPTER 30: THE LETTER FROM SOLMIRE
CALEB'S POV
The letter arrived at dawn.
That was the first problem. Not because letters didn't arrive at dawn — they did, occasionally, when border matters were urgent or trade routes needed immediate attention. But royal correspondence from Solmire moved through three relay stations and two formal processing courts before it ever reached a pack Alpha's desk. The standard turnaround from the Golden City was ten days minimum. Fourteen if the court was busy, which it always was.
This letter had taken four.
I turned it over in my hands before opening it, studying the seal. Heavy gold wax, the Foster crest pressed deep and clean — a lion mid-roar, crown above, laurel below. The paper beneath was thick cream vellum, the kind that cost more per sheet than most warriors made in a week. Beautiful. Deliberate. The whole thing designed to communicate power before you even broke the seal.
I broke it.
