Aaron
The evening sky was painted in hues of crimson and gold as the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting long shadows over the grand courtyards of Mallory Palace.
The air was thick with tension, though tonight, for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a spark of hope burning in my chest.
Giovanni was back.
I hadn’t let myself believe it when the guards first brought word. "The Prince's ship has arrived,” they’d said, their faces wary, conditioned by months of unexpected dangers and false promises.
But when I saw him ride through the gates, battered but unbroken, his sharp eyes still blazing with that familiar fire, I knew it was real.
My brother had returned.
I rushed down the stone steps two at a time, my heart pounding. It felt like ages since I’d last seen him
