Seraphina
The palace felt eerily quiet and despite trying to take deep breaths, hot sweat was slowly forming at the base of my feet.
The marble beneath me was cold, but my body didn't seem to care.
Everything looked the same. The gold-rimmed walls, the chandeliers, the grand staircase that used to feel like the center of my childhood, but the air felt different. It was heavier. It was as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.
A few servants passed by, heads bowed, eyes darting away the moment I looked their way. No greetings, no smiles. Not even a whisper of recognition. Just silence. That told me more than words ever could.
Something was definitely wrong.
Lord Varyn—my uncle, had always been careful, charming, even, when he wanted to be. But subtlety wasn't his strong suit, not when it came to control. The unease that clung to the air told me he'd already started setting whatever he had in mind in motion. I just didn't know what they were yet.
