Emily stood at the window of her new room, staring out at the golden sunlight that spilled across the gardens of Ethan’s palace. The kingdom of Blackmoon was nothing like Opsia. Here, the air didn’t taste like cruelty. There were no guards barking orders, no chains dragging behind her steps, no fear sitting on her chest like a weight.
She still didn’t speak much. Even after Ethan had brought her to the large room, explained gently that she was safe now, and left her alone to rest—she hadn’t said a word.
But that night, she slept.
It was the first time in months she hadn’t been awakened by nightmares, or Damien’s voice, or Anna’s schemes. The bed was soft, the sheets clean, and no one locked the door.
The next morning, Ethan returned, knocking lightly before entering.
“I hope you slept
