MasukI found Elara in the library the morning after Ramiro brought Lady Seraphina to the castle.
The library was quiet this morning, nothing like the day I had seen Leandro standing in the shadow of the bookshelf, watching me with those burning golden eyes. Today, the shelves stretched from floor to ceiling in peaceful silence, packed with books so old that their spines were cracked and their pages were yellowed with age. Dust motes floated in the pale light that streamed thro
I found Elara in the library the morning after Ramiro brought Lady Seraphina to the castle.The library was quiet this morning, nothing like the day I had seen Leandro standing in the shadow of the bookshelf, watching me with those burning golden eyes. Today, the shelves stretched from floor to ceiling in peaceful silence, packed with books so old that their spines were cracked and their pages were yellowed with age. Dust motes floated in the pale light that streamed through the tall windows, and the air smelled of paper and ink and something else, something ancient and forgotten.Elara was sitting in a tall chair by the window, with an open book in her lap, but her grey eyes were not moving across the pages. She was staring out at the snow, watching the flakes fall against the grey sky, and she looked as tired as I felt. The fire in the hearth had burned down to embers, and the room was cold, even colder than my chamber, and I could see my breath hanging
I was walking back to my room after another supervised walk through the halls, with my mind still full of the image of Leandro breaking that guard's arm, when I heard voices coming from the throne room. The doors were open, which was unusual, and torchlight spilled out into the corridor like liquid gold, painting the stone floor in shades of orange and red.I should have kept walking. I should have gone back to my room and closed the door and pressed my back against the headboard and pretended I had not heard anything. That was what survival looked like. Keep your head down, make yourself small, and do not invite trouble. But something pulled me forward, something that felt like curiosity and fear and that quiet part of me that had been waking up ever since I arrived at this frozen castle.I stopped in the doorway and looked inside.The throne room was crowded with nobles, more than I had ever seen gathered in one place. Their golden eyes glowed in
The window was high in the wall, hidden behind a tapestry I had pulled aside, and from this vantage point I could see the courtyard below without being seen. The stone was cold against my palms, and the glass was frosted at the edges, but none of that mattered. Not when Leandro was down there, moving like a storm made flesh, like something ancient and deadly that had no business being so beautiful.He was training with his guards. Ten of them, maybe twelve, all in leather armor with swords strapped to their backs and the kind of grim determination that came from knowing they were about to be humiliated. They circled him like wolves circling a stag, but the stag had claws, and teeth, and three hundred years of practice. The stag had killed more men than they had ever met.One guard lunged, his wooden sword swinging toward Leandro's ribs. Leandro sidestepped like he had all the time in the world, caught the man's arm, and twisted. The crack echoed off the s
Elara came to my room again the next day, and this time she did not sit on the edge of the bed or stand by the window or look at me with those sad grey eyes that made me feel like a wounded animal being studied from a distance.She pulled the wooden chair from the corner of the room and set it beside the fire, and she motioned for me to sit across from her on the floor. The chair was old, older than anything I had ever seen, with carved arms and a faded cushion that had once been red but was now the color of dried blood."I am going to teach you something," she said. "Not about the king, or the bond, or the court. I am going to teach you about this land. About the war, about the treaty, and about the sacrifices."I did not move. I sat against the headboard with my back to the wall and my knees pulled to my chest, and I watched her arrange the chair and settle into it like she was preparing for a long conversation.The firelight
I woke to the smell of bread and honey, and for a moment I forgot where I was. The mattress was soft beneath me, and the blankets were warm, and the fire had been relit sometime while I was sleeping, casting orange light across the ceiling in dancing shadows. I could have been anywhere. I could have been back in my mother's cottage, waking to the smell of her cooking, believing that the world was still a place where good things could happen.Then I saw the stone walls, and the frost on the window, and the tray of food sitting on the table where no tray had been the night before.I sat up slowly, my back aching from where I had pressed against the headboard, and my legs stiff from being pulled up against my chest for so many hours. The cloak had fallen off my shoulders sometime in the night, and I pulled it back around me, feeling the warmth of the fur against my neck and the weight of the wool on my back. The boots were still on my feet, and I wiggled my toes inside them, grateful for
Elara came to my room the next day, and I knew from the look on her face that she was not here to offer comfort or advice.Her grey eyes were darker than usual, and the lines around her mouth were deeper, and she moved like someone who was carrying a weight that had been pressing on her shoulders for a very long time. She did not knock. She simply walked inside, closed the door behind her, and stood at the foot of my bed with her arms crossed over her chest.She sat on the edge of the mattress without asking, and the old springs creaked under her weight. I pressed my back against the headboard and pulled my knees to my chest and waited.The fire crackled in the hearth, throwing shadows across her face that made her look older than she already was, and I realized that I had never asked how old she actually was. Hundreds of years, probably. Or maybe more."You need to know what happened to the others," she said.I did not ask who she meant, because I already knew. She was referring to t







