(Daciana POV)
The masked servant rushed through the smoke with her silver blade raised, and for one frozen heartbeat, everyone moved too slowly.
Lyall lay helpless beside me, his hand still gripping mine, while the ring bearing Bardolph’s family crest burned against my palm.
Conri shouted my name, but a fallen beam blocked his path, leaving only smoke, fire, and my wounded body between Lyall and death.
I did not think like a servant, a rejected Luna, or a lost princess when the blade came down.
I moved like my mother’s blood had finally remembered itself.
I grabbed the tray I had carried into the tower and swung it with both hands against the attacker’s wrist.
The silver blade flew from her hand, spinning across the burning floor before sliding beneath the broken bed.
The servant s
