Far from the warmth of the Court, beyond the villages that had begun celebrating the end of winter, an abandoned estate stood in complete silence.
Once, it had belonged to a respected noble family, now its gates hung crooked from broken hinges, its gardens had been swallowed by weeds, and every banner bearing the family's crest had long since been torn down.
The kingdom had judged the master of the house guilty of treason. His execution had been swift and the estate had been confiscated.
To the outside world, that chapter had ended. Yet beneath the ruined manor, hidden behind a concealed passage known only to its former owner, another story had only just begun.
Cassian sat alone inside a dimly lit chamber. The room was small, built entirely from rough stone. A single oil lamp flickered weakly upon a wooden table, its light barely pushing back the surrounding darkness.
