Alistair’s POV

I stride along the corridor, already letting the thought of my chambers calm my mind, when suddenly, hurried footsteps echo behind me.

“Alistair!”

I don’t even need to turn around to recognize the voice. My sister, Isola, always speaks in that sharp, buoyant way that rarely means peace for my evenings.

I stop walking, slow my pivot just enough to watch her heading toward me with purpose. Isola never ambles; whatever ...