Silk wheels screeched across cobblestone.
The royal convoy returned under a pale sky, banners fluttering like smug tongues. At its center sat Princess Lysandra—firstborn of the Western Wolf King, betrothed to Prince Ethan since childhood.
And now, nothing.
Not after the slave girl arrived.
Still, she smiled.
Such a lovely sunrise, she purred, stepping from her gilded carriage. Just like the day he first kissed my hand.
Beside her, handmaidens exchanged glances. Everyone knew Lysandra hadn't been summoned. She came because rumors whispered of a mute who now walked in Ethan's shadow.
She'd come to reclaim her place—or destroy whoever had taken it.
---
“You didn't tell me she was back," Ethan muttered.
Xiluo stood at his side, silently pouring tea. Her fingers stilled only for a bre
