"I’ll make sure you, Actavio, and that wretched mother of yours end up as beggars."I don’t pretend his words don’t hurt. They slice through me, sharp and direct. But I hold my smile. “It wasn’t my mother who abandoned her family for a Grand Duke, Zenthio,” I say. “She stayed in this house for years—to care for us. To care for you.”I see the way my words hit Zenthio and his siblings. I know I’ve gone too far—it’s not their fault. Guilt crawls up my spine, but I push it down. Because every time Zenthio or Demario insults my mother, I feel the same sting. And as always, he doesn’t even flinch.Zenthio lets out a dry laugh. “Care for me? And what exactly can a mortal like your mother do, Helio? Sweep the floors? Scrub the halls?”"Everything alright?" Bernard’s voice cuts in, sudden and unwelcome. I pray he hasn’t been listening, but the moment he speaks again, my hope crumbles. “Helio, can we talk later?”⚔️I always hate the way Bernard closes the library doors before one of our serio

When General Aziel delivers the news, everything starts moving too fast, like a film on fast-forward. My mind goes blank, unable to process what happens next. My mother and younger brother burst into tears. My sister accuses General Aziel of lying. And Demario and Zenthio—I'm not sure. But I know they’re smiling as if they can’t believe things are unfolding exactly the way they wanted."I grieve just as much as you do," General Aziel finally says. His voice is heavy with sorrow, enough to quiet the whole room. "Marquess Alessio and I have known each other since our days at the magic academy." He pauses for a moment before continuing, "But my knights found his body. And I know he—Marquess Alessio—would want to return to his family. His coffin will arrive today, My Ladyship. I hope you will arrange a proper funeral for him."My mother stays silent. I know it's too much to ask of her. No woman wants to hold a funeral for the man she loves. But Lavinia steps forward, wrapping an arm aroun

Eleven years ago."Helio, do you want a sibling?"I don’t turn to her. More accurately, I refuse to. I’m still upset that she didn’t come to my room last night to read me bedtime stories. She never believes me when I tell her how many times Demario and Zenthio sneak in, tormenting me with ghost stories."Helio...""Why would I want a sibling, Mother?" I snap. "Am I not enough of a punching bag for Zenthio and Demario?"She sighs. "But aren’t you close with Lavinia?""Of course. But Lavinia is only my half-sister.""So you still don’t want a sibling?""Give me one good reason why I should," I demand. "Aren’t you afraid they might be born blind like me?"She lets out a soft laugh. It infuriates me so much that I reach for my white cane and push myself up. I want to leave my room, though I have no idea where to go. I just don’t want to run into Zenthio or Demario and face whatever torment they have planned for me today.My fingers find the door handle when she speaks again. "I’m not afra

General Aziel and the family of the soon-to-be Marquess arrive just in time. But, as always, this kingdom isn’t ready for the ceremony. The king is still buried in war strategies—or rather, drowning in them—and the queen is too much of a perfectionist to allow anything less than flawless. At best, the ceremony will happen tomorrow.While the knights haul in Zenthio’s belongings, along with those of his two siblings and the family presumed dead, I catch a flicker of unease on the girl’s face.I lean against a pillar in the hallway, watching as she furrows her brows and grabs Zenthio’s elbow. Her lips move, whispering something too far away to hear. But that doesn’t matter—I can read lips."What did you do to them, Zen?"Zenthio swats her hand away, annoyed. "Do you want to end up like them?"She doesn’t move. Not even an inch. Just stands there, staring up at him like she’s challenging him to strike her down. I never really noticed her before, but now I do. The way her silver hair is n

The palace gardens at night are hauntingly beautiful, bathed in the silver glow of the twin moons. The lanterns flicker weakly, casting long, jagged shadows across the marble paths. The scent of roses lingers in the cool night air, but the silence here is unsettling—too vast, too empty, as if something is missing.My thoughts are still tangled in the Queen’s challenge. One month. One month to prove I deserve the title of Marquess more than Zenthio, Lavinia, or Demario. But proving myself to the Queen isn’t the only thing that weighs on my mind. Zenthio and Demario won’t play fair. I’ve already seen what they’re willing to do to claim power.Then I hear it.A choked gasp. A muffled cry. The unmistakable sound of something—or someone—hitting the ground.I freeze, my senses sharpening.A rustling of fabric. A pained whimper. My gaze sweeps the dimly lit garden, and then I see him.A small boy, barely more than a shadow against the cobbled path, lying motionless near the fountain. His sil