Chapter Two: The Eyes in the DarkSheila Ren first encountered the eyes when she was seventeen and was hemorrhaging beneath the altar of the Asylum of Saint Vex.It began in silence.Not the cozy quiet of loneliness, but the suffocating silence that roared. Rotten with putrid breath and hidden teeth, it wrapped itself around her lungs like wrapping smoke. She gasped for air. Her legs were numb. Her head reeled, and even the solid rock under her felt far away.Her hands trembled over the gash in her belly, wet with blood. The agony hadn't quite caught up with her yet her body was still numb, still dazed. Above, a single torch flickered, casting ugly shadows on the walls of the crumbling chapel.And he stood above her.The man. The shadow. The beast.She couldn't get a look at his face, not really. Most of it was covered by a hood, and what light touched him obstinately left. But his eyes oh, gods above, his eyes cut through the dark like twin swords of onyx.Cold. Curious. Not enraged.

Chapter Four: The Vanishing ServantThe scullery boy, Niven, was the first to go missing.It had been two days since the grand procession. The palace was still decked with celebration flags fluttered over the towers, white lilies filled the vases in the corridors, and orchestras played light sonatas in the marble corridors. Wine, rosewater, and happiness pervaded the air. Prince Kairo was home, and the kingdom was bathed in the warmth of its revival.But in other parts of the servants' quarters, beneath floors of carved stone and mirror-finish opulence, unrest began to bloom.It started as whispers."Has anyone seen Niven?""He wasn't in to report to the kitchens.""His bed isn't slept in.""He was on cellar duty last night. Heard he saw someone sneaking at him from the archway.".Servants clustered in corridors, glancing over shoulders while they worked. But when the problem was brought before the steward of the inner palace, Lord Renlow, the problem was resolved at once."Niven was

Chapter Six: The Madness in Her MindThe wind rattled the shutters of Sheila Ren's East End rented room. Rain lashed outside in narrow ribbons, slicing the night like glass. The fire had gone out. The air inside cooler. The candle on the little table flickered, its flame curling inward with every breath of air sneaking under the door. There were no other sounds besides the soft dripping of water due to a leak in the ceiling and the creaking of the wood under aged, strained beams every now and then.She had retreated into the corner, knees wrapped against her chest, her fingernails penetrating her arms through her sleeves. The broadcast she had listened to earlier still lingered in her mind."If you betray Caelwyn, I will find you."The words were spoken with the gentleness of a lover's vow, but she knew a threat when she heard one. No, not a threat. A vow.She hadn't slept.She hadn't actually slept since she'd looked upon that face. Since her brain had tried and failed to convince he

Chapter Eight: The Subtle CrownThe throne room of Caelwyn had never been so alive yet beneath the waxed floors and gleaming chandeliers, something had shifted. A fresh rhythm thrummed through the veins of court, unperceivable at first. Like a shadow on a sundial, unseen until it covered the light.Prince Kairo sat beside Queen Alys, wearing formal black trimmed with crimson silk hem. He wore a casual air, but his eyes did not. They swept the room with muted scrutiny as nobles presented questions of commerce, border treaties, and tax reforms."Proceed," he said to Lord Marren, who bowed deeply and stepped aside.My prince," Marren began, "the Northmere traders are concerned regarding the new levies. They fear it will choke grain distribution through to winter."Kairo leaned forward, his gaze harsh. "Would they rather see the palace starve while they horde the harvest?"Marren's face reddened. "Of course not, Your Grace. I only meant—""I understand," Kairo said smoothly. "But fear mus

Chapter Ten: The Mark in the GardenThe Caelwyn palace gardens, a sanctuary for those nobles who had sought refuge from the trappings of courtly life, had become a sanctuary of darkness a sanctuary where peace was disturbed, and fear and discomfort replaced it. The hedges were tall and overgrown, reaching to the skies like gnarled fingers, and the cobblestone paths wound around sunken fountains, their waters stagnant. Beneath the marble statues of the ancient rulers forever locked in their eternal vigilance there was no peace.At break of dawn, the air was thick with mist, as if the earth itself was holding its breath. Mira, a teenage assistant groundskeeper, moved softly through the gardens, a basket of fresh herbs slung on her hip. She had not expected to be working so early, but her father, a veteran palace staffer, had fallen ill, and she had taken on more of the duties in his stead.As she strolled along the thick, overgrown vines of the Herb Walk, her mind went to the strange at