The once-silent halls of the Night Court were now alive with sound. Not music or war cries but the scrape of stone, the clatter of hammers, and the murmur of voices unfamiliar to these lands.
Tents had been erected in the courtyards. Scribes from the Autumn Court walked beside Winter Court engineers, drafting schematics for new buildings and gardens. Summer mages warmed collapsed roads, melting frost to soften the stone for repair. Spring healers tended to children who peeked nervously from behind ruined columns.
The dark blue banners of the Night Court had not been taken down but beside them now flew the banners of the other Four Courts.
Queen Caroline stood atop a balcony of black marble, overseeing the effort. She wore silver, but a golden sash now crossed her shoulder a sign of being united with Casimir. Her breath misted in the air but her eyes were steady.
Lady Genevieve approached her from behind, a stack of scrolls in her arms.
