The flames roared louder than the screams.
Lady Lillian Voss stood frozen on the balcony of her burning estate, her nightgown billowing in the hot wind, her breath stolen by the smoke and the horror unfolding below. Soldiers—her husband's soldiers—were cutting down their own men. She watched as steel clashed against steel, blood slicked the marble steps, and torches were hurled into windows, setting everything ablaze.
"William!" she screamed, her voice lost in the chaos.
A figure in the courtyard turned toward her. Lord William Voss, her husband, was battling three men at once, his blade flashing in the firelight. He was holding his ground, but not for long.
Lillian gripped the iron railing, her knuckles white. This was no raid by bandits. This was planned. Treason.
Then she saw him.
Lord Edwin Harrow, William's closest friend and advisor, stood at the edge of the battlefield, watching with cold calculation. His golden crest gleamed in the firelight.
No. It couldn't be.
William caught sight of her. "Run!" he shouted, his voice hoarse. "Get Adrian and run!"
But before she could move, a blade drove through his back.
She screamed. William dropped to his knees, blood pooling around him. He turned his head just enough to look at her one last time before collapsing, his eyes open and empty.
Lillian's body refused to move.
Heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs behind her. A hand seized her hair, yanking her backward. She fought, clawing and kicking, but a fist cracked against her skull, sending her reeling. She hit the ground hard, her vision swimming.
"Take her outside," a voice commanded.
She struggled, but they were stronger. They dragged her down the grand staircase, through the splintered doors, past the corpses of her household guards.
And then she saw him again. Harrow.
He stood beside a carriage, his face unreadable. The door opened, and a small figure was pulled out—Adrian.
Her son.
He was only ten, his dark curls wild, his face streaked with tears. "Mother!" he cried, reaching for her.
She fought harder, kicking at her captors, biting, clawing. "Let him go!"
Harrow stepped forward, gripping Adrian by the shoulders. "He is mine now."
Lillian's blood turned to ice. "You will not take my son."
He looked down at her with something close to pity. "I already have."
Then came the pain.
A blade plunged into her side. She gasped, choking on air. The soldiers let her drop to the ground, her body curling inward as warmth spread across her stomach.
The last thing she saw before darkness took her was Harrow leading Adrian away, his voice calm and firm.
"You have no mother anymore."
Then the world faded to black.
****