Chapter 60 Thrones And Traitors

• By midmorning, the sky hung heavy, a sheet of gray stretched tight over the city. Something in the air cracked like a prelude to war.
• Amara stood on the balcony outside her office, one hand resting lightly on the stone railing, the other wrapped around a coffee cup she hadn’t touched. She wasn’t watching the street below—she was watching the patterns. The traffic. The shadows that didn’t move quite right.
• “Salvatore’s going to make a move today,” she said without turning.