---
Two days later, far from the quiet corridors of Dawn House, a letter was being torn apart inside a palace that pretended to be a tent.
From the outside, the camp did not look particularly impressive at first glance. That was the trick. It stood in an open stretch of guarded land beyond the city's noisier trade roads, shaped like a luxury expedition pavilion made for nobles who enjoyed pretending hardship was fashionable. Its exterior was built from layered silver-gray fabric reinforced with thin plates of chaos-thread metal, its lines elegant and restrained, its crest banners stitched with old symbols that spoke of wealth so old it no longer felt a need to shout. To ordinary eyes it looked like an expensive field residence.
To anyone with proper senses, it was an insult.
