[Draven’s POV]

The next morning, I handle the immediate aftermath with the systematic efficiency that keeps me sane.

Prisoners are processed in the lower courtyard — Mintian warriors stripped of weapons, catalogued by rank, confined under armed guard. Aldric’s elite forces receive separate quarters and heavier chains.

“You are burying yourself in administration.”

“It is what keeps an army functioning after a battle. The fighting is the easy part — it’s the aftermath that breaks houses.”

“You are also avoiding your chambers, where Evelyn sleeps.”

“She needs rest more than she needs me hovering. I’ll be there when she wakes.”

The allied minor houses report casualties through runners. House Theron lost eight warriors, and House Varis lost twelve. House Caelum, who held the southern wall, lost twenty-three.

I send condolences with supply aid: grain, medicine, and practical support that says what words cannot.

The dead are gathered by midday. The count is heavy but not devastating — sixty-two from our forces, another forty-one from the allies. We expected worse. The intelligence advantage saved lives.

The eastern trap worked exactly as designed, because Kael’s information was accurate and Venna’s revelation closed the secondary leak before it could warn the enemy.

Lives saved by unlikely sources.

“My lord.” Riven’s voice comes from the doorway of the war room where I’ve been reviewing casualty reports. His face is drawn, exhaustion carved into every line, but there’s something else beneath it: something that looks like peace.

“What news do you bring, brother?”

“Venna’s body has been recovered from the gate. I had her cleaned and prepared for burial myself. I dressed her in warrior’s armor — full rank insignia, the insignia she wore before I stripped it from her.”

I set down the reports and turn to face him fully. “You restored her rank without consulting me or the council?”

“She earned it back, Draven. She held that gate alone against a dozen elite warriors when she could have run. She saved Evelyn’s life when she had every reason to let her die. Whatever her crimes were before, she paid for them at that chokepoint.”

Riven’s voice cracks slightly. “I needed to do this for her, to give her back what I took.”

“Are you asking me to confirm it and make the restoration official?”

“My request is to give her full honors at the burial and let her be laid to rest with the house’s fallen, with her rank restored posthumously in the official records.”

I study my brother — the grief that has aged him overnight, the determination that keeps him standing despite it.

Riven loved Venna before her bitterness poisoned everything between them. Part of him probably still does.

“Full honors,” I say. “She’ll be buried with the house’s fallen. Her rank is restored as of the moment she took her position at the gate. See that Sera writes the commendation for the records.”

Riven’s shoulders sag with relief. “Thank you, brother. I know this isn’t a simple decision, given everything she did before the battle.”

“She held the gate when it mattered, so that’s what history will remember.”

He leaves to make the arrangements. I return to the reports, but my mind keeps circling back to the woman who died facing enemies she once served.

Sera arrives an hour later with a document in her hands, her face pale.

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