"All paperwork concerning Slaves must be available for the Association of Slave Owners, Law Enforcement, Nobility, and Royalty to view upon request."Makiar halted abruptly, his gaze flicking back toward the marquis. Rein vanished in a blur, slipping silently behind a nearby sconce to avoid his sights. Then she turned her gaze toward Rallian as well. Why would Rallian want Makiar to return the orb to him? Of course, Makiar didn't hesitate to obey, and Rein fluttered toward another sconce closer to the grand hall, her glow blending into the flickering firelight.Nadia, who still recovered on the steps to the dais, glanced up at Rallian. "Master, what are you doing?""I asked for all of your secrets, Lila. That includes your ethnicity."Rallian extended his hand, and Makiar placed the drawstring purse into his palm. The marquis then untied the cord and let the orb slip free, settling into the center of his hand like a sacred relic. Nadia gasped, clutching her stomach as the shadowy smoke

"Slaves under the age of eighty that are not sold at the end of an auction will be put into auction a second time. If by the end of the second auction they are still not sold, they will be sent to another town to be sold there."Polaris stood at the threshold of the forum's grand foyer, the low murmur of gathering officials echoing beyond the Chamber doors. News of Parliament's emergency meeting had hit like the hush before a storm, heavy with an unspoken threat. He couldn't pin down what he felt, only that dread clung to him like mud. Drake, barred from attending by virtue of lacking an official court title, lingered in Polaris's mind. The absence of his assistant's steady presence left him exposed, like stepping into winter without a coat.Polaris adjusted the collar of his gold shirt, its gleam dulled beneath the crystalline fixtures above. Over it he wore a black vest threaded with gold, the fabric catching flashes of torchlight like stars caught in a storm-cloud. Every stitch was

"The death of a Slave must be reported to the Association of Slave Owners forty-eight hours after the death."Rein's fingers hovered over the brittle pages of the journal she'd found in Marquis Rallian's desk, her eyes darting across lines thick with secrets. Every paragraph tugged her deeper, demanding her full attention. She wanted nothing more than to sit down and devour the entire thing. But time was already slipping from her. She would have to return later, once Rallian was asleep. For now, she needed to focus on the entries that mattered most: Ariana and Nadia.As she skimmed, Rein's pulse quickened. The carefully composed façade between Rallian and Queen Ariana was far more fragile than she'd assumed. Beneath layers of calculated civility, there was a quiet war of distrust, unspoken threats, and a partnership strained to its limits. Rallian feared Ariana would soon demand Nadia's execution. He'd already made peace with refusing her, even if it shattered their alliance. But the d

"All Slave Auctions will take place once a month on Market Day, the date and time of which will be determined by the mayor of the town."At Bloodrose Villa, a faint wisp of steam curled upward from Ivanna's skin, her body heat rising enough to turn sweat into mist. She held her focus, eyes closed, moisture glistening on her face. The room's temperature climbed alongside the mounting tension, everyone silently waiting to learn what was happening at Bryabay."All right, Iva. That's enough." Polaris reached to grab her shoulder."Don't touch her!" Aleda warned. "You'll burn yourself. Here."Aleda rose swiftly and grabbed an afghan from a nearby chair. Just then, Ivanna finally exhaled the breath she'd been holding, and sagged forward. Aleda caught her just in time, using the soft blanket to shield her own hands."Thank you," Ivanna whispered. "I did it. They won their fight.""You almost killed yourself!" Polaris exclaimed. "What was worth your life?""Rein found a group of people who can

"All Slave Auctioneers must carry proof given to them upon being appointed, stating that they have been affirmed by the Association of Slave Owners. If proof is not available upon questioning, it will be assumed that the auctioneer in question is not legally appointed."Just a few more minutes. The interminable pageantry neared its end, each passing second dragging like wet wool across Polaris's skin. Soon, only the gaudy revelry would remain—a blur of forced laughter, clinking glasses, and shallow pleasantries. Then he could finally retreat to Thorncove, where the real torment would begin: figuring out how to endure a kingdom ruled by Ariana."Your queen will now choose the sword she deems most important by which to rule," announced the prime minister.Queen Ariana rose with slow, pointed elegance. She placed the orb on the marble pedestal between the thrones, its golden griffin gleaming in the light, then leaned the scepter beside it. Descending the dais steps, her skirts whispered o