"Vendor?" she repeated, voice low, sharp. "Marquis Vendor?"
Idena nodded. "Yes, Your Highness."
The weight of that name sent a ripple down Priscilla's spine.
The weight of that name sent a ripple down Priscilla's spine.
Of course it was him.
The reason for her unease was simple.
In recent months, a storm had begun to stir within the outer provinces—subtle at first, then undeniable. A rising force within the Empire's nobility. A name that had once lingered at the periphery of power, distant and unconcerned with central politics, now surging forward with bold, calculated momentum.
Vendor.
The Marquis Family of Vendor had long been exempted from the Empire's courtly entanglements, protected by its distance and isolation. Too far to be relevant. Too localized to be dangerous.
But that was no longer true.
They had changed.
And they had moved.
Aggressively.
In the past year alone, Vendor's name had echoed across three provinces. Not with diplomacy. Not with trade.
