The air changed three days before the Blood‑Moon.
Lucia noticed it first in the garden—how the snow hissed when it touched the stone. How even the hounds refused to bark after dusk.
By the second night, the palace healers began whispering in corners, mixing brews that smoked purple and smelled of rot.
On the third morning, a shadow crossed the training yard, and every soldier froze.
Prince Ares stood at the edge of the balcony. Not speaking. Not moving.
Just… watching.
His eyes glowed faintly amber.
---
Lucia was summoned that night.
“To where?" she asked.
The steward avoided her gaze. “Corridor outside the Iron House."
Her heart sank.
“You want me to scrub floors?"
“It's an honor," he said quickly. “He chose you."
She followed the guard up the spiraling northern tower. Wind
