Women in the small kingdom of Aeriana are disappearing.
Iris Daniels, a budding painter in the East Territory, is trying to keep her head down. In a kingdom filled with abilities, music, and Destined love, Iris is determined to build a career out of...
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"They tell me it's easy / they say don't think / remove the mask, relax, speak / but they don't see / they don't know / the mind has played tricks before / and what if it's painful / what if they see / I'm made of broken glass and dark history."
—Being Yourself is Harder Than Breathing, Katherine Slater, Bring Them Fire Album
Staff stalked through the halls of the Second Palace, their gaze determined as they flipped sheets, dusted chandeliers, wiped down walls, and arranged the decor on end tables. Down in the kitchen, the stoves were lit, the kitchen staff bringing in food supplies, washing the polished silverware, laundering the embroidered napkins, and cutting their way through a significant portion of vegetables.
King Demitri watched it all as he took a slow lap around the Second Palace. Although he had to preserve his energy, it was also important for him to move about during the day. At least, as much as he still could. Although he took frequent breaks, he made time to stop and talk with the staff.
His brother, Aedan, loved these moments. Aedan had always been the social one. He enjoyed the dinners, the charity and political events. He'd thrived as king.
Demitri had never been and never would be, as seemless as Aedan was. As the younger of the two, Demitri had grown up with hobbies rather than responsibilities. And though he'd been trained for the public eye alongside his older brother, he'd spent most of his life assuming he'd never have to step into the role.
Until he did.
His advisors, Reese Garrick and the others, made it a lot easier to navigate the tricky waters that were Aerianan politics. Hand-chosen by his brother, he knew he could trust his advisors with even the darkest secrets. His advisors were Loyalists. The others were not.
"Your Majesty," Reese Garrick stopped next to him.
The west wing, the guest wing, was not a place Demitri visited often. Reese had been looking for him for a while, based on the hard line above his eyebrows. "Your Majesty, you need to rest."
"How long until they arrive?" Demitri asked.
Reese glanced at a sleek watch on his wrist. "Four hours and thirteen minutes."
"So precise," Demitri murmured.
"The Sarian Commander has already arrived with his security to sweep this wing," Reese said, "we'll need to have the staff finish up here shortly."
It was a testament to how much they trusted him and his staff that Commander Jackson Leonger only needed a few hours to perform checks on the wing where the Sarian Prince, Prince Ethan Alexander, and his Destined, Lady Elizabeth, were staying.
Demitri's eyes traced the long column he'd been using as a place to lean while he caught his breath. All the movement to get down to this wing left him lightheaded and aching.
