The week passed faster than Edward expected.
The first few days were quiet—almost deceptively so. The palace guards stopped questioning his presence, and the elves who once stared at him with suspicion now merely regarded him with distant curiosity. He had grown used to their looks by now. What he couldn't get used to was waiting.
Elarien was gone most of the time, buried in preparations. Caravans were arranged, routes charted, and permissions sealed by the royal council. He caught sight of her once or twice in the distance—barking orders at scouts, checking weapons, or speaking to the king's aides with the sharp authority of someone who belonged in command. Every time he tried to speak to her, she was already off to handle another task.
He didn't mind. He had his own concerns to deal with.
