Serena blinked slowly and then turned to the door, half expecting it to be Darius. What a greddy heart she was growing. She blinked slowly and the brush nearly slipped out of her hand.
There stood Amara of Redfall. Serena swallowed and then raised a brow. Her dress was nearly undone, this woman had caught her at an awkward moment.
"How did you get in here?" Serena asked.
The woman looked her up and down and smiled. "I see that you have lost your sharp-mouthed stead."
Serena narrowed her eyes, she was referring to Charlotte. How did she even do that, Serena had not noticed she was trailing her as far as following her to her room. Serena’s grip tightened around the handle of her brush, her knuckles paling. Somehow Amara’s smile grew even larger.
"I thought eastern wolves were taught to greet their guests properly," Amara said lightly, her tone lined with mischief.
Serena’s lips parted in a polite smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. "We do, though usually after a knock on the door," she replied, voice clipped and crisp with the accent she’d adopted. "Forgive me if I’m not inclined to bow when startled in my chemise."
Amara let out a laugh, not loud but strange, like something from the wrong end of a memory. "Oh, come now. Modesty becomes you, a great swordswoman." Her eyes glinted as they wandered around the room. "A sparse space. Maybe for a fragile princess, even. One would not think this belonged to an esteemed ambassador belonging to the blood engorged wolves of the East."
Serena tilted her head, keeping her voice even. "Then you are unfamiliar with Crimsonclaw hospitality, Lady Amara. We place little stock in frills."
"Yet plenty in masks." The other woman walked to the edge of the window, her fingers trailing along the sill. "You wear yours well. I wonder if you even know when it comes off anymore."
A flicker of irritation stirred in Serena’s gut. "You speak in riddles," she said, setting down the brush with deliberation. "Are you always so... forward with women you have just met?"
Amara turned slowly, her gown shimmering like oil in candlelight. "Hm, only the curious ones." She paused, then gave a lazy nod toward the door. "Your friend, the sharp-mouthed one, Charlotte. She is quite protective and very loud. It is easy to slip away when the storm’s in the air."
Serena raised her brow. "And you? Are you the shadow that follows the storm?"
"No," Amara said, almost wistfully. "I am what the storm forgets."
The words made Serena blink. Her instincts prickled again, this time not in alarm, but in warning. This woman was strange in a way she couldn’t place, like a dream forgotten on waking. There was no scent to follow, no tell in her movements. Her presence was unnatural in its stillness, like she wasn’t entirely real.
"What is your role on this journey?" Serena asked carefully. "You are not council, nor do you bear the marks of a diplomat."
Amara tilted her head, amused. "Is that an accusation or a compliment?"
"Then I shall give you an answer, Ambassador." She stepped closer, not threatening but certainly encroaching. "I serve Riven. I observe and I advise him and his party. Sometimes, I disappear entirely."
Serena’s jaw tightened. "And what are you observing in this room?"
"You." The word landed with unsettling softness. "You are not like the others. You burn very quietly. Most wolves roar when they wish to be seen. But you... you light the wick and wait for the wind."
Serena folded her arms, she walked over to her desk and placed the brush down carefully. She wondered if the woman was complimenting her or digging for information. What a strange bunch the Dawnbreak party was proving to be.
"And what does that mean to a woman who sneaks into rooms and speaks in circles?" she asked.
"It means I like you," Amara said with a bright, strange grin. "But liking something does not make it less dangerous."
The room fell into stillness again. A wind from the cracked window rustled the curtains, and for a moment Serena forgot to breathe. Amara’s gaze never left her face. Her words rang loud in her head, Amara was telling her to still be on her guard. The most update n0vels are published on novel{f}ire.net
"Why are you truly here?" Serena asked, gentler this time. "You seem disinterested in trade, and I doubt Riven sent you to test Ironshade’s doorknobs."
Amara chuckled. "Curious and clever. What an unfortunate combination."
Amara’s expression softened, and for a moment Serena saw something unguarded in it, almost human. "Because if I told you the truth, I fear you would not sleep for days."
Serena met her stare, unblinking. "Try me."
But the moment passed. Amara turned toward the door, pausing with her hand on the knob. "Perhaps another time, eastern wolf."
"Wait," Serena said. "How did you get this far without being seen?"
Amara glanced over her shoulder, her eyes shining faintly. "It is a secret." Then, with a faint laugh, she added, "It is a shame, is it not? That Dawnbreak cannot roam freely here, among these twisting halls and closed doors, even more restricted paths on the land Lunara gave us to run on. One might wonder if Ironshade intended it all along."
Her tone shifted, just slightly. A hint of warning beneath the words. Serena held her dress closer to her chest and leaned on her desk behind her.
Serena’s gaze narrowed. "That is quite the claim."
"Oh, no claim. Just musing aloud." She smiled again, wide and oddly innocent. "A fun challenge. Like a game of chess where one side pretends not to play."
With that, Amara slipped out, the door shutting behind her with a soft click. Serena stood in silence for a long moment, one hand on her arm. Her skin prickled.
She was not sure if she had just made a friend or a very peculiar enemy or something entirely else.