The Dragon Warlord's Silent Bride

DIANA’S POV

The first Rellan family arrived before the Citadel had enough chairs.

Diana noticed because an elderly man gave his seat to a woman holding a sleeping child.

He remained standing afterward.

The relief area beside the infirmary had not been designed for nine families at once.

Usually one household waited there. Occasionally two.

The military infirmary had not emptied after the western defense either. Most stable soldiers had already moved into convalescent rooms or returned to their companies under restrictions, but several serious cases still occupied treatment beds. ℯℯ𝘭.

Rellan had not arrived at an empty infirmary.

Nine affected households had registered in person at the Citadel so far. More relatives remained near Rellan or were receiving the same verified reports through territorial offices closer to their homes.

The waiting area had been designed for people enduring ordinary illness and injury. It had a few benches, a narrow table, two water jugs, and an outer corridor that became cold every time the door opened.

By the second hour, Blackharrow had added chairs from the guest rooms.

By the third, children were sleeping beneath folded cloaks because the chairs had gone to older relatives.

Diana stood beside the household desk with her slate.

Mistress Hale approached carrying another room list.

”We can open the western family hall.”

Diana nodded.

HOW MANY SLEEP?

”Twenty-four comfortably.”

More than enough for the households currently at the Citadel, but Diana looked toward the infirmary corridor anyway.

Families were not the only people using those rooms now.

She wrote: OPEN THE SMALL GUEST HALL TOO.

”The eastern one?”

She shook her head.

That route would interfere with infirmary traffic.

WEST UPPER.

Mistress Hale nodded.

”That keeps the stair clear.”

Diana had learned something from the brazier fire.

Routes mattered before people needed them.

A kitchen servant arrived.

”How many evening meals?”

”How many families have arrived?” Alma asked.

Daric answered without looking up.

”Nine registered here. Territorial offices are handling the families who remained closer to Rellan.”

Diana wrote: PREPARE FOR TWELVE.

The servant hesitated.

”What if fewer need them?”

Diana pointed toward the infirmary.

”Send excess to night staff,” Alma translated.

The servant nodded.

”Yes, Your Grace.”

Another messenger entered the corridor carrying the black-and-silver Rellan case.

Daric took it. The entire corridor had learned to recognize that case within one afternoon.

Daric broke the seal.

”Seven confirmed alive by contact.”

A woman started crying in relief, although no names had been confirmed yet.

Someone else asked, ”Names?”

”Not confirmed individually.”

The woman’s relief stopped halfway.

Daric continued.

”Official trapped count remains thirty-one.”

Diana watched the families receive the number.

Thirty-one people.

The number was small enough that the families could imagine thirty-one individual faces. Diana could see several of them silently counting, trying to decide whether their own relative belonged among those names.

Daric posted the updated report on the board. It offered only the confirmed facts:

31 LISTED TRAPPED.

7 CONFIRMED ALIVE BY CONTACT.

RESCUE CONTINUING.

A miner’s wife stared at it.

”Listed?”

Daric answered, ”That is the current official count.”

The woman looked at him.

”My husband is on it?”

Daric checked the family copy.

”Yes.”

The woman nodded and sat.

Diana moved through the waiting rooms.

One child had no idea why everyone was frightened and had become furious because his wooden soldier lost one arm.

A household servant found glue.

An older woman refused food until Alma placed bread directly into her hands and told her she could continue refusing after eating half.

The woman ate all of it.

A man paced between the same two windows until one of Diana’s guards quietly moved a chair away from his route.

Nobody told him to sit.

Some people could not.

Diana noticed other things.

There was nowhere private to receive bad news.

Every messenger entered through the same corridor.

Every family watched his face before he reached Daric.

Children heard casualty language intended for adults.

The elderly man who had given away his chair was still standing.

Diana found another bench in an unused side room and had two servants move it.

The extra bench helped, barely.

She wrote a note to herself. MORE SEATING NEAR INFIRMARY.

Then another. PRIVATE ROOM FOR FAMILY REPORTS.

There was no time to solve either today.

Today people were waiting.

A woman arrived after sunset with snow on the hem of her skirt and no cloak heavy enough for the short road from the lower Blackharrow district.

Her son did not live with her. He traveled with a specialized maintenance crew assigned across the territory.

This week, that assignment had taken him to Rellan.

”Grand Duchess?”

Diana turned.

The woman stopped before her.

”My son.”

Alma came closer.

The woman’s hands were trembling.

”Joren Vale. He’s twenty-four. Dark hair. Burn scar here.”

She touched one wrist.

Diana looked toward Daric’s trapped-worker list.

The woman followed.

”He was underground.”

Diana took the copy.

Thirty-one names. Diana read each carefully.

Joren Vale was absent. She checked every name again.

Before she could reach for the slate, the woman said, ”He is not there.”

Diana hated that she could not soften the answer.

She shook her head.

The woman stepped closer.

”No. He went to Rellan with the maintenance crew. He was assigned to inspect the ventilation lines.”

Diana looked toward Daric.

He had heard and came over.

”Which crew?”

”Maintenance.”

”Permanent Rellan crew?”

”No. They send him wherever they need him. He left for Rellan this week.”

”Who supervises him?”

”Master Koln, I think. Or Kollen. He repairs the lower lamps and air lines.”

The official count still read thirty-one.

The number had arrived from the main shift ledger and foreman’s count.

The woman caught Diana’s sleeve.

”My son went into that mine.”

The guards moved automatically.

Diana raised one hand.

They stopped.

Thirty-one names remained on the page. Joren was missing from them.

Diana still did not know whether he was missing from the mine.

Diana wrote: WE WILL CHECK AGAIN.

The woman read it.

”I know where he went.”

Diana believed the woman.

The list still had to be checked.

She turned toward Daric and wrote: WHAT RECORDS MADE THIS LIST?

”Main shift ledger. Foreman count. Why?”

Then she wrote: I WANT THE REST.