At midnight, in the heart of the Empire, Nacho Salaman entered a rundown inn, looking travel-worn and weary.

After exchanging a secret code with the innkeeper, he was led upstairs to a private room.

Standing before the door, Nacho knocked lightly, cleared his throat, and spoke respectfully, “Lord Airlandy, I’ve returned.”

A deep male voice answered from inside, “Come in.”

“Yes, my lord,” Nacho replied.

He pushed open the door, and the innkeeper discreetly closed it behind him before quietly walking away.

Inside, the man referred to as Airlandy sat by a tea table on the balcony, legs crossed, gazing …