[WARNING! Unedited! Don't Buy!]
The moment the heavy doors clicked shut behind Lyander, the house felt emptier—not cold or hostile, just quieter, like it had paused to see what I would do next.
I stood for a second, unsure.
Then I exhaled slowly and made my way back toward the lounge, wrapping the soft blanket tighter around my shoulders. The fire had died down a little, but the coals still glowed. I nudged them with the iron poker, watching sparks spiral upward before settling into a deeper red.
The Duchess of Veralyn. The High Commander.
I didn't know much about them, except that they belonged to the part of Lyander's world I hadn't touched yet—the world of power plays, alliances, masks polished with formality and laced with threats. The kind of people who smiled with their teeth and didn't blink when they made you disappear.
I wasn't sure I was ready for them.
