Merwin Dreynoir

  THE FIRST TIME I heard war coming, it was in the silence.

  Not the kind of silence that soothed after a long day in the vineyards, but the suffocating stillness before chaos struck. It pressed against my chest, a weight too heavy to ignore.

  From my window, I could see the faint glow of the village lights in the distance, their pale yellow flicker struggling against the dark. Beyond them, House Dreynoir’s land stretched into shadow, the only reminder of what we stood to lose.

  War had always been a shadow in the North, but this time, it was different. The recent skirmish over a salt mine had drenched the soil near my county with blood. The borders were no longer secure, and Pasha—military advisor to the Sultan of Rhoadnia—wasn’t one to make reckless moves. If he was shifting his forces, it would be with a plan that we wouldn’t fully grasp until it was too late.

  I exhaled sharply, trying to steady my thoughts, but the weight of it all pressed down harder. What had once been a distant concern now felt like a storm gathering at my feet, and I could feel the uncertainty gnawing at the edges of my resolve.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  The whispers of a battalion gathering at Sandcastle had grown too loud to ignore, and the villages along the frontier were emptying, their inhabitants fleeing inward with whatever they could carry. It was a warning.

  Yet, even as the threat of war drew near, there was something more pressing in my thoughts—my affairs closer to home.

  Yesterday, the Duke’s mistress gave birth to a son.

  The news should have brought joy. It didn’t. Gytha, the Duke’s wife, would never let this stand. She was as cunning as she was ruthless, and I’d already seen her malice when she tried to kill Lady Rayeesi. Rayeesi, who was like a sister to me, now found herself at the mercy of forces far more dangerous than she could ever imagine.

  I had sworn to protect her—Rayeesi, my sister in all but blood—knowing well the perils that came with being close to a family like the Duke's. But now, as her life hung in the balance, it felt as if the very ground beneath me was giving way.

  A creak in the floorboards brought me back to the present, my heart skipping a beat as I turned toward the door.

  A knock echoed through the chamber, sharp and deliberate.

  “Enter,” I commanded, my voice steady despite the tension in my chest.

  The door swung open, revealing a figure in steel plate armor. His brown hair was disheveled, his eyes shadowed with urgency. He dropped to one knee, his voice firm as he spoke.

  “Your Grace,” he said, “how may I serve you?”