The stench of scorched earth and blood still hung over the clearing beside the Governor's Palace, thick enough to choke on.
The surviving Lysene nobles had spent the night huddled there.
Fear was etched into every face, yet most still struggled to keep their backs straight, preserving their crumbling noble dignity.
It was the last thing that distinguished them from commoners.
The crowd was divided into two distinct groups.
One clustered around Luciana Hayne.
The silver-haired woman stood straight-backed, forcibly suppressing the tremors and calculations in her pale violet eyes.
Beside her stood the Rogare family members who had narrowly escaped execution, their faces ashen, their eyes harboring disbelief at their own good fortune.
At the brink of annihilation, an ally like this had descended from the sky.
Some nobles with old ties to the two families had also gathered around, casting hopeful looks at Luciana, counting on this lady who knew the Dragonlord to shield them.
The other group was larger. They stood well away on the opposite side, watching Luciana's cluster with complicated expressions, but their feet seemed rooted to the ground. None approached.
The reason was simple.
The "Spring of Lys."
Governor Dorian's roars at last night's banquet still rang in their ears. That attempted coup had targeted far more than the Antaryon Family.
Political upheaval always brought bloodshed. As beneficiaries of the existing order, they were natural obstacles to be cleared from the Hayne and Rogare families' path to restoration.
Seek shelter with them now? They might as well bargain with a tiger.
They preferred to believe that whoever became Governor would ultimately need nobles like them to govern Lys-men versed in administration, with resources and connections at their command.
Perhaps all they needed was a dignified negotiation.
Sa Melis stood alone between the two groups,