"I never thought I'd be the one to burn down my own home."
The windows shattered before the first scream even left my throat.
Glass rained across the marble floor of the throne room, and I watched my father's crown tip sideways on his head as he lurched from his seat. The chandeliers swung violently overhead, casting dancing shadows across the walls that looked like demons celebrating.
"What in the bloody hell—" Father's voice cracked, his hand already reaching for the sword that wasn't there. He'd stopped wearing it to meals. Too comfortable. Too safe.
"Your Majesty!" General Vance crashed through the side doors, his uniform torn, blood streaming from a gash across his cheek. "They're inside. The entire east wing is overrun."
I was already moving before I could think. My feet carried
