The city had not yet stirred when Zaria slipped into the Council archives. Dawn’s pale light crept through the high windows, dust motes dancing in the beams, but the chamber itself was silent, still, and heavy with the scent of parchment and ink.
These archives were supposed to be sacred every treaty, every law, every oath sworn under the Moon preserved here. But Zaria knew better. Where there was history, there were secrets. And where there were secrets, there was power.
Her fingers brushed over leather bound scrolls as she searched the shelves. She didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, only that the whispers in the chamber the night before had confirmed her suspicions. Kaelen’s venom had not been born of sudden dislike. It was rooted in something deeper. Something written.
The
