I stared down at the mysterious letter resting on the cold, unforgiving stone floor. My first instinct was to be the obedient girl I had always been taught to be. I hesitated, my hand hovering in the air, thinking that perhaps I should simply pick it up and hand it over to the guards stationed by the heavy oak doors. But then, my eyes caught the ink on the front of the parchment. My heart stopped dead in my chest, a cold chill running down my spine. There, written in bold, dark, and elegant letters, was my own name.
Amanda.
I felt a sudden jolt of panic. I stole a quick, frantic glance around the hallway. The guards were standing as still as statues, their gazes fixed firmly on the far walls. Their faces were carved from stone, set in that same angry, permanent scowl they always wore. I
