The peace of the Unified Realms had been absolute for over seven years. The trade routes flourished, the northern winters felt less bitter, and the Southern lords had learned to bow respectfully to the Alpha King.
But peace, Valerius had always secretly believed, was merely an illusion—a brief pause meant to allow soldiers to sharpen their swords.
It was past midnight. The Winter Citadel was entirely silent, save for the howling of the wind against the heavy granite walls.
Aaliyah sat in the royal library, completely surrounded by towering stacks of ancient, dust-covered ledgers. She wore a simple, elegant sleeping gown of dark silk, her silver hair cascading freely over her shoulders. Despite the late hour, her silver-amethyst eyes were wide awake, intensely scanning a particularly
