"Aye," Roland said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "She didn't just endure, she outmaneuvered them. With wit, patience, and the courage to gamble when others would have folded. Many expected her to cling to her title and fade. Instead, she grew it. She turned her barony into a viscounty through sheer will. Every bit of her standing now, she carved with her own hands."
Lumberling's gaze lingered on the carriage where Liraeth waited, her green eyes calmly scanning the square. She looked so poised, so untouchable, yet now he saw the steel beneath her elegance.
"She reminds me of a blade," Lumberling said at last.
Roland tilted his head. "How so?"
"Polished on the surface, gleaming, beautiful," Lumberling replied. "But it's the edge beneath that makes it dangerous."
