The letter slipped from my trembling fingers like a death sentence.

My legs gave out beneath me, and I collapsed onto the narrow bed. Father. Dying.

The words carved themselves into my consciousness with brutal clarity. Every breath became a struggle as panic clawed at my throat.

Nothing else mattered—not duties, not consequences, not the precarious position I'd fought so hard to secure.

I moved like a woman possessed, yanking my travel cloak from the wooden chest at the foot of my bed.

The ...