Veylin was given a guest room in the castle's west wing.
The room was small. A roughly woven family tapestry hung on the stone wall, bearing the Dawn Family's crest, though years of wear had faded it somewhat.
The bed was made of oak, and the sheets smelled of soap pods and sunshine. They had clearly been carefully washed, starched, and dried.
He walked to the window and pushed it open.
The courtyard came into view.
Diana sat on a stone bench beside the dry fountain at its center.
She wore the same pale blue linen dress today, her back straight as a poplar bracing against a cold wind.
A man stood before her. It was Count Philip.
He held a leather-bound book and recited poetry in a singsong voice.
"Oh, pearl of the dawn, your golden tresses outshine the rising sun, your lake-blue eyes are my guiding stars when I am lost..."
His voice echoed through the empty courtyard, sounding rather ridiculous.
Diana wore a smile, but it never reached her eyes. Her gaze wandered elsewhere, settling on the yellowed lawn.
Grunts and shouts came from the other end of the courtyard.
Viscount Valerius was bare-chested, his bronze muscles sharply defined and gleaming in the sunlight. He sparred with an attendant using heavy wooden practice swords, each swing whipping through the air with palpable force.
"Have at you!"
He shouted, parrying the attendant's attack while glancing toward Diana out of the corner of his eye.
Diana's expression did not change.
Veylin watched the scene outside his window. Interesting.
He recalled the advice he had given in his letter-borrow outside strength, build up your own, then turn the tables.
Diana had clearly only managed the first step. She had lured in two wolves without preparing a sturdy enough cage or