The moon hung heavy in the Blackfang sky, swollen and silver, casting everything in that haunting shade of bone-pale blue. It dripped across the stone halls like water, pooling on the flagstones, bleeding into shadows that moved a little too deliberately.
Jasmine sat at the edge of her chamber’s windowsill, one bare foot curled beneath her, the other swinging lazily into the night. The wind teased the hem of her slip, playing with it like a lover, brushing it along the line of her thigh. Her body hummed with a restlessness she couldn't shake. Not even after the bath. Not even after the wine. Not even after the endless silence of the room that had once felt like a cage and now just felt like a warning.
Below, the courtyard stood empty. No training tonight. No posturing. Just stillness and
