The celebration had died down considerably by the time Nheera received the news. The once-lively notes of the string quartet still drifted faintly through the hall, but the music was more subdued now, stripped of its earlier exuberance. It bore little resemblance to the beginning of the evening, when laughter had rung through the hall as nobles mingled with one another and food and wine had flowed freely.
Most of the guests had already departed by the time one of the guards sent earlier to search for Irah approached the queen.
He ignored the curious and openly suspicious stares cast in his direction as he leaned down to whisper in Nheera's ear.
"We found her, Your Majesty."
The words were delivered in such a grave, weighted tone that Nheera understood the truth even before the guard finished speaking.
Irah was dead.
"Where is she?" Nheera said, already rising to her feet. "Take me to her."
