Alura stiffened when she heard the chapel door open behind her. From the doorway, she could hear Reverend Mother Vikta, the temple’s high priestess, chastising whoever had entered the room. There was only a brief exchange of harsh whispers before she heard the rustling of the reverend mother’s robes and the angry clack of her shoes on the stone floor fading away. The intruder began to walk up the aisle between the pews toward the head of the room where Alura was busy praying before the shrine...

The silence in the throne room was suffocating, bearing down on Alura with its inescapable weight. The water still dripping from Matilde’s hair onto the floor was almost as deafening as the occasional crackle or snap of the wood burning in the braziers all around the room. Alura didn’t even dare to blink as she knelt before the emperor, eyes fixated upon the alabaster floor beneath her. Dioclaetus rarely ever needed to speak to make his point known. He simply sat back in his golden throne, pr...

Alura awoke to the sound of her chamber door opening. Her hand slipped under her pillow to grab the hilt of the dagger she kept for emergencies. Only one person ever entered her room at this ungodly hour, but it never hurt to be prepared, especially with the Black Sparrow on the loose. It wouldn’t be the first time the two of them had gone toe-to-toe, but she hadn’t expected to see her again so soon. The sweet, floral scent of jasmine and honeysuckle confirmed her suspicion of who the intrude...