*Ella*

It’s raining harder than I thought possible. Outside, the day has faded into night–and whatever gods they worship in this strange kingdom are livid. 

Thunder booms, shaking the small cottage. I curl my hands around a little metal mug full of whiskey and keep my head low as I listen to the conversations taking place all around me. 

Ryatt has an entourage–every one of them young, each of them built like a brick wall and oozing with violence. At least, that's ...