The first assassin came through the window.
Not the door. Not the corridor. Not any way the guards expected.
Later, Nyra would realize how they got in. Much later.
Right then, all she felt was unease. She woke before she even opened her eyes, tension crawling over her skin. Something pressed in on the room — a heavy, unnatural silence. The storm that had been hammering the palace had vanished. No thunder. No rain. No wind. Just stillness.
And Nyra had learned: stillness was more dangerous than noise.
She opened her eyes. Moonlight spilled across the stone floor, painting everything silver and gray. For a second, the room looked just as it always did. But that feeling — being watched, threatened — wouldn’t leave.
Nyra sat up, heart beating faster. The chill in the air was sharper now.
