Alina had been summoned at dawn, though she hadn’t slept a moment. Shadows writhed beneath Kael’s boots as he escorted her through the towering doors, and nobles turned their heads in unison to stare. Dozens of them sat in crescent rows of carved obsidian, their robes stitched with silver and black flame. Each pair of eyes gleamed too bright, too hungry.
At the center, upon the dais, sat the Council of Knives. Seven lords and ladies whose cruelty was legend, whose tongues cut as sharply as the blades they carried at their belts.
The eldest, Lady Seraphine, leaned forward, her lips pale and thin. “Bring the girl forward.”
Kael bristled, but Alina forced herself to step into the light. Her wrist burned, the mark flaring under their gaze.
Whispers hissed.
“She bears it still.”
“Impossib
