The next morning hit like a thunderbolt.
Not because of a hangover. I wasn’t that reckless.
No, this was the particular ache that came from dancing too long in heels, kissing too long against balcony walls, and feeling entirely too seen by an entire ballroom full of nobles.
The capital’s royal council chamber was all polished stone and silver banners fluttering from tall windows. The Queen sat flanked by her consuls, the King leaning on his sword as if he already knew things would get entertaining.
And me? I stood beside Duke Alaric at the long table, officially summoned as Storm Knight Abby.
A title that apparently made half the council twitch every time someone said it out loud.
I counted four glances toward my new crimson-etched uniform—a tailored coat, black with silver and red a
