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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"31 got away. The Crown was prepared."
—An intercepted text sent from an unknown number
Today was bad.
Other days were arguably worse, so much so that King Demitri had a hard time doing anything else but sleeping. Today, though, he wouldn't be able to escape the confines of his wheelchair.
Which meant he was stuck in his chambers. No one outside this small room could see him.
The Kingdom of Aeriana could never know of his true condition. They could not know he was sick. "It would incite panic," his friend, guard, and advisor, Reese Garrick, told him time and time again. "More than that, you'd be revealing your weakness to the snakes that oversee the territories."
But as the days went on, he spent less time up and walking. By the end of this month, his doctors warned, he may be on full-time bed rest.
Which was why they needed to come up with something. Now.
Time had him by the neck and slowly tightened around him, strangling his hope with him.
"Start prepping for the backup plan," Demitri told Reese that day. He sat in his wheelchair, looking out the large windows over the east garden. Though it was fall, the grounds below his chambers were awash with color. Winter had not yet sunk its deathly claws into the trees lining the marble fountain, nor had its poison nipped at the red and white blooms dotting the grassy trail.
"Your Majesty, I know it's not much, but we have someone who may—"
"No," Demitri said. The word came through tight teeth, and when it hit the air, it sent a spear through his chest. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't keep holding on to this hope. It did nothing but worsen his condition.
And remind him of all he'd once had.
"Prepare for it," Demitri said. "Call in Catalina and her wife. Make sure they arrive safely. Have the staff ready the west wing for their arrival."
Catalina was his cousin on his mother's side. The next in line for the throne. Their family had been decimated years ago, which had jumped Catalina up the line of succession.
She did not know that she would now have to run this Kingdom.
The cold fall sun cast over the garden below. "I've allowed myself to be stuck in a fantasy," Demitri told Reese softly. "It's about time I let reality in."
"Please don't lose hope entirely, Your Majesty."
A sad half-smile curled his lips as he flicked a glance at Reese. His advisor had been his greatest asset, his greatest friend for many, many years. Even before his own violent ascension to the throne, Reese Garrick had been here at the Second Palace, guiding his brother, the previous king, just the same.
