Page 78 of The War of Four Winters

Aryn had positioned himself at Daraith's side, slightly protective yet deferential. There was a connection between them I hadn't noticed before, something beyond mere alliance.

"Daraith, as the last living heir of the Duskfell bloodline, has the authority to appoint a representative," Seagrave said. "Whom will you name to the empty seat?"

A moment of silence followed her words. Then Aryn straightened, something almost defiant in his posture. "I will represent House Duskfell in the Assembly tomorrow. By right of marriage to its last living heir."

The room fell utterly silent. Niro seemed caught off guard by this revelation, and Seagrave's eyes widened in surprise.

"Marriage?" I echoed, looking between Aryn and Daraith with newfound understanding.

Daraith's expression remained impassive as he stepped forward. But then he did something I'd never seen before. He reached out and took Aryn's hand in his, their fingers intertwining with practiced ease. The gesture spoke volumes, making it clear this was no mere political arrangement.

A faint flush colored Aryn's pale cheeks. He glanced away briefly, but he didn't pull his hand away.

"A private ceremony. By the old rites," Daraith explained, his voice as calm as ever despite the intimate gesture. "As clan head, I've appointed Aryn to speak for our interests."

Katyr nodded with quiet approval, a knowing smile on his face. "I told you they'd need to know eventually, brother."

"It wasn't relevant to our mission," Aryn replied, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. "It changes nothing about our duties or allegiance."

"It changes everything about your standing in the Assembly," Seagrave corrected, studying them with new interest. "Marriage into the Duskfell bloodline gives you a legitimate claim to representation. It's unorthodox, certainly, but legally sound."

"Congratulations are in order then," I said, unable to keep a smile from my face at Aryn's obvious discomfort with the sentiment.

"It's not a big deal," he muttered, though the way he kept his fingers entwined with Daraith's contradicted his casual tone. "The marriage makes me a member of Clan Duskfell, but the appointment is what matters for tomorrow's vote."

"Indeed," Niro agreed, though he too seemed pleased by the revelation. "Still, it's good to see happiness found even in these dark times. What news from our forces?"

"And how did you find us?" I added. "We've kept our presence in the capital carefully hidden."

"We didn't come looking for you specifically," Katyr admitted. "After Ruith's capture, we gathered everyone we could and marched on D'thallanar. The Craiggybottom clan house was our planned rendezvous point given their known loyalty."

"Finding you here is a gift from the gods," Aryn added. "Though perhaps not entirely unexpected, given your devotion to Ruith."

"Our forces?" Niro prompted again.

Katyr's expression grew serious. "After receiving news of Ruith's capture, we gathered everyone we could. Calibarra stands with only a token defensive force now. Hawk trains recruits from among the former slaves, preparing for the worst. The rest march on D'thallanar."

"How many?" Seagrave asked.

"Nearly five thousand. Not just Runecleavers, though many rallied once word spread of Vinolia's death. Stoneriver sent eight hundred of their finest archers. Northfire contributed mages. The loyal Wolfhearts marched with us as well."

"Five thousand," I repeated, the number sending a surge of hope through me. "Where are they now?"

"Divided into companies surrounding the capital," Aryn explained. "Positioned to avoid triggering alarm but able to converge within hours if needed. We've established signal points on each major approach."

"Our preference is for political victory," Katyr emphasized, looking toward Seagrave. "Military action remains our last resort. But the army's presence changes the balance of power, even if Tarathiel doesn't yet know the full extent of our forces."

"There's more," Aryn added. "A messenger reached us yesterday. Ieduin rides south with three thousand Yeutish warriors."

I frowned. "Three thousand? I thought Khulan promised five."

Katyr nodded. "He did, but I’ll take what I can get, especially since Kudai himself leads the force."

"Kudai comes personally?" The Yeutish rebel king was known for his reluctance to leave his northern territories. His direct involvement signaled a massive shift in northern politics.

"Apparently, Ieduin can be very persuasive,” Aryn said.

"The Yeutish forces should reach D'thallanar within three days," Katyr continued. "Not in time for tomorrow's vote, but soon enough to support whatever follows."

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