Zayne’s POV
The corridor outside the winter gallery smelled of old stone and frozen roses. That was how I knew something was wrong. The palace always warned me before it bled.
I heard raised voices before I saw them. One sharp, brittle with anger. The other was calm in a way that made my teeth grind. Aurora and Natalie.
I stopped at the edge of the archway. I started walking slowly, my boots silent on the marble floor. The light from the tall windows cut the room into blades of silver and shadow.
Aurora stood near the table where Mother once arranged her poison vials like jewelry. And Natalie, there she was, standing across from her, dressed in pale blue, hands folded as if she were at prayer.
If I had arrived a moment later, I would have been too late.
“You don’t get to speak to me
