The gift showed up just like that—no fuss, no warning, no explanation. In a palace where even a harmless bouquet came with a note and an approving signature, this one just sat there on Nyra’s table. It looked so casual, you’d swear someone meant for it to blend in.
Nyra found it just after dawn. The light washed the world in that hazy gray that makes everything feel fragile and not quite true. She was up earlier than usual—her mind always seemed to start before the rest of her—and she’d been staring out the window, half-lost in that thin space between dreaming and duty. That’s when she caught it. Something in the glass, a little reflection behind her.
At first, she figured it was a slip—maybe someone left it during the morning chaos. But when she really turned around, that idea vanished.
