Carefully I pry the letter from Dawn's hand, turning the envelope over to see that, sure enough, the neat scrawl that addresses me by name is indeed Lilyana's hand. With deliberate and lingering slowness, perhaps still a little fearful that the letter could somehow be rigged by a warding spell or a charm, I place the letter in Ithuriel's sachet, tucking it alongside Soren's book- or diary. A prison is not a place to read such things- especially things from enemy lines. Not when there could be eyes anywhere.
I turn to Dawn and give her a faint and apologetic smile.
