The gardens of Castelvo were beautiful in the moonlight, a frozen tapestry of silver and white. But to Emily, looking down from her locked window in the West Wing, they looked like a graveyard.
It was 3:00 AM.
The castle was asleep. The guards posted at her door were silent.
Earlier that day, Emily had stood at this same window and watched her son play.
Julian had been in the lower courtyard, building snowmen with Lady Seraphina. He was laughing. His magic, usually so volatile around Emily, was calm. Seraphina was teaching him how to shape the snow with telekinesis, her movements graceful and assured.
Ethan had been there too. He stood on the sidelines, watching them. He looked... peaceful.
They are better without you, the voice in her head whispered. It wasn't the Groom this time. I
