The Montclair estate had always been a symbol of elegance and nobility, until the day it became the stage for a massacre.
Dawn broke with an unnatural stillness, the kind of silence that precedes something cataclysmic.
Ireen Montclair stood by the window of her family's grand hall, her eyes glazed with exhaustion, trying to make sense of the swirling rumors that had ravaged the capital. Her best friend, Empress Rena, was dead. And now, somehow, they were blaming her and her family for it.
"It doesn't make sense," Ireen murmured, clutching the necklace Rena had gifted her on her last birthday. Her mind raced, trying to untangle the web of lies that had been spun around them. She couldn't fathom it, how could they believe she would ever harm Rena?
Her brother, Jorhan Montclair, stormed into the room, his face pale, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Ireen, they're coming."
Ireen blinked, pulling herself from her daze. "Who's coming?"
