Prologue - Ariel

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A wash of yellow and red embers leapt up from the hearths and danced along with the gust of wind that blew through the throne room. Merely an hour had passed since the four lion mouths spat their rage in blazing hot golden flames. The logs sizzling in the darkness provided warmth nor light.

Ariel shivered. From a crack in the western wall seeped the soft glow of the harvest moon, illuminating the letter he was crushing in his hand. Behind him, the water trickling down from yet another hole in the rotting wooden roof grew louder, like approaching footsteps from the Gods of Sin crawling out of their Seven Hells to mock him. Again.

Autumn was nearing, and with it the endless days of rain and wind that would turn his kingdom into a giant frozen swamp. They were doomed. From all across the realm, the same news had come: failed crops. Field after stinking field.

If only he could blame poison or disease; but no, it had just been bad luck. The misfortune to be born on the wrong side of the Horseshoe Mountains, where the terrible northern weather always dwelled for far too long, never climbing the peaks to unleash their power on the luscious Greenlander fields.

At this rate, the food reserves would dwindle even more rapidly. And to top it all, the ports in the east had fallen prey to rats as large as cats-if he had to believe Lord Peregrine. While his men had spent all their resources deratting the infested ships, the few crops destined to be exported to the south had long withered before they had sailed a mile.

This had not been Silvermark's year, but neither had last year or the one before. Even the once so reliable mines hadn't brought forth enough silver to repay the debt he owed King Alder.

"Father, look!" Felix's shadow rose against the wall, his roar inane as he slammed the toy flail into the pretend enemy he had been battling for the past hour.

Ariel resisted the urge to smile.

The boy was his pride; a mirror of him and all his forefathers before him-a true lion with a mane of gold. His son deserved more than this wasteland. Drastic measures had to be taken to turn their fate around and make the Gods of Virtue look into their direction again.

"Did you see that, Father?"

Ariel hummed. Of course he had seen the cartwheel of victory, or the attempt at it anyway. Felix was hardly the first one to entertain him with private performances. Panthera had done it so often too, right there, on the thick but worn-out red carpet that guided both visitors and criminals from the door to his feet.

But his daughter had long stopped showing her tricks; her dolls replaced by pincushions and needles. At age thirteen, she was growing even more beautiful than her mother, his beloved Cobra. He held the letter so tightly his hand was cramping up. Soon Panthera would wed and brighten up another man's castle.

He hated the man already.

"Father, did you see me?" Felix asked again, louder.

"Yes, yes," Ariel muttered, his attention shifting to the blond, bulky guard who had stepped through the door. Jay nodded discreetly; his visitor had arrived. "Go annoy your sister. I have important matters to discuss with Master Katla."

"About wha-at?" Felix stretched the word out, far longer than necessary, then chuckled as he deftly swung the flail around.

"Ways to grill insubordinate children."

The boy was stepping on dangerous territory, but frankly, it only made Ariel treasure him more. Kings needed to be on top of their game in order to survive. Too kind or too fair, and the treacherous, power-hungry Lords would devour every bone in his body. Nobody could be trusted, least of all the four other royal houses dying to see Silvermark succumb to their misery.

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