[Liene] "Wow..." While she had been lost in sleep, the world had shifted. [Liene] "When did all of this happen?" The bathhouse had been completely transformed. What was once a cavernous, utilitarian room with nothing but a basin and a drain was now anchored by a gleaming marble tub. A massive mirror hung on the wall, and a broad stone vanity held neatly arranged washbowls. Most impressive was the new furnace. It looked like a foreign contraption designed to heat the water di

[Liene] "But I... I haven't... washed up yet." Her words came in fits and starts, interrupted by the nervous lump in her throat she kept trying to swallow. Behind her, his fingers were steady as he worked, undoing the intricate pearl fastenings of her gown one by one. [Black] "It’s fine. You’ll only end up having to wash again later anyway." [Liene] "Still, I mean... I’ve been outside all day." [Black] "The skirts are so thick, I doubt a single speck of dust managed to find

One thing was clear, even if the rest was a blur of shadows. The Princess Consort of Sharka loathed the very idea of the Tiwakan Commander taking a wife. Laffit surged to his feet, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. [Laffit] "When? Now?" His uncle stared at him, clicking his tongue in disbelief. [Uncle] "Whoa, take a breath. She said the sooner the better, but look at you. You can’t go before the Princess Consort looking like a gutter rat, can you?" [Laffit] "...Da

[Dieren] "That arrogant son of a bitch." Slam! Dieren snarled the words as he thrust his wine glass onto the table with enough force to nearly shatter the stem. [Servant] "Your Highness... please. Someone might overhear." [Dieren] "Let them! Do you honestly think that man expects anything but curses from my mouth after a stunt like that? He knew exactly what he was doing. He planned this insult down to the last crumb." [Servant] "It was... excessive. Should I perhaps send wor

[Liene] "It fits like a dream." Dinner had finally arrived. The two of them, both exhausted from their respective duties, met in the quiet intimacy of the dining hall. Liene wore a dress of soft, shimmering lilac. Her ladies-in-waiting had insisted on it, fussing over her appearance to commemorate their final evening before the wedding. [Liene] "When I went for the final fitting, both the Madams were standing there with needles at the ready, looking like they were going to wa

[Liene] "What's wrong?" Liene felt Black’s intimidating gaze and slightly tightened her grip on his hand. [Black] "Did he do something to you?" Black leaned closer, as if checking Liene from head to toe. [Liene] "No, nothing. But why..." [Dieren] "My, my. Shouldn't I be the one asking about your well-being, not your sweet fiancé?" It was Prince Dieren, who had just gotten out of his carriage and was walking closer. Black turned around, his face showing displeasure. Diere

Liene pointed to the large and sturdy mahogany cabinet. The cabinet was once used to store jewelry. Each drawer had a different handle and keyhole. After her jewelry was sold, the cabinet became empty and no longer needed to be locked, to the point that the keys were only stored in the drawer of her office desk. However, the drawer that was supposed to be empty, was not empty. The jewelry that had been stored there returned to its place as if it had never been sold. [Liene]

Black pressed her back into the mattress, cutting off her attempt to rise. Her drowsy eyes flew wide, the fog of sleep vanishing instantly. [Liene] "I thought you said you couldn't do it." She’d taken his earlier hesitation to mean that removing a woman’s stockings was simply too technical—a delicate, silken puzzle that was too easy to snag or tear. [Black] "Did you really think I was incapable of undressing my own wife?" [Liene] "Then... why stop?" He offered a smile that di

[Liene] "Are we ever going to finish this...?" Her voice trailed off, her eyelids fluttering as she fought the crushing weight of exhaustion. [Flambard] "I’m beginning to wonder the same thing, Your Highness..." Madam Flambard, usually the drill sergeant of the sewing room who would have barked an order to keep stitching, slumped in her chair. The fierce resolve in her eyes had been replaced by a weary, hollow defeat. [Liene] "Madam?" The shift in the older woman’s spirit was

Black slid a parchment scroll across the table, the movement fluid and deliberate. The ink was dark and permanent, a record intended to outlast them all. Zerquess flinched as it approached, half-expecting a blow, but the scroll stopped with uncanny precision right before his hands. [Burrey] "What is this supposed to be?" Black’s brow arched, a dangerous glint in his eyes. [Black] "Your tongue seems to have shrunk, Burrey. Is that any way to address the Prince Consort?"

It was shaping up to be another grueling day. The morning had passed in a blur: waking, washing, dressing, and a shared breakfast before seeing Black off. The workload wasn't what weighed on Liene; it was the hollow ache of his absence. Every hour spent on administration was an hour stolen from him. [Liene] "What is it, Madam?" Liene had thrown herself into her duties the moment she returned to the castle interior. With Arland’s help, the mountain of appointment letters was

Click. The door swung open to reveal Black, his expression a mask of stony displeasure. [Black] "What in the—" [Liene] "Lord Tiwakan!" Before he could finish, Liene threw herself at him. Caught off guard by the sudden collision, Black instinctively reached out, his large hands locking around her waist to steady her against his chest. [Liene] "Why are you so late? I was terrified!" [Black] "I ran into a bit of a nuisance. But more importantly... why are you in here?" He leane

Rumors rippled through the city all night, carrying the news that two Kleinfelters had been stripped of their names and cast out of Nauk like common beggars. The Kleinfelter manor—once the largest and most imposing estate in the capital—remained a silent fortress behind locked gates. Not a single lamp flickered in its windows; the house stood so dark and hollow that whispers began to spread that the entire lineage had been put to the sword. There were no reports of the serva

[Noble] "Regardless of the evidence, we cannot hang the Chairman of the Grand Council." The dissenting noble looked toward the other Elders, searching for a crumb of solidarity. Rosadel and Ellaroyden, however, refused to meet his eyes. Instead, they stole nervous glances at Black. Lord Burrey was in no condition to help; he was too busy cradling his mangled wrist, his face twisted in a mask of agony. [Arland] "In anticipation of a lack of unanimity, Her Highness Princess Li

The two Kleinfelters were bound at the wrists with rough hemp rope. They were treated with no more dignity than common thieves. The cord connected the uncle and nephew, the slack held firmly in the calloused hand of a Tiwakan warrior. Lyndon had spent the morning shrieking that such treatment was an impossibility, an insult to his status, but a few sharp kicks to his shins from the guards had finally bought his silence. Liene watched the entire spectacle unfold. She hadn't in

At first, he thought something was terribly wrong. The moment he dismounted, Liene practically threw herself into his arms, as if she’d been counting the seconds until his return. [Black] "Princess?" He could have sworn this was the first time she had ever worn her heart so brazenly on her sleeve. She was the one reaching out, the one initiating this desperate contact. [Black] "Is something the matter?" [Liene] "Yes." He tried to pull back slightly, wanting to read her expres