The courtyard felt like a battlefield even though no swords were drawn. Empress Valdira stood in the center, her midnight-blue armor catching the moonlight. She was beautiful in the way that winter storms were beautiful—deadly and magnificent.

Our guards formed a nervous circle around her, but she paid them no attention. Her ice-blue eyes were fixed solely on me.

"Princess Lyra of House Moonspire," she said, her voice carrying the authority of absolute power. "You are smaller than I ...