ora

cul-de-sac in Atheria's high-tier district, maske

t displaying dusty marble busts and broken oil paintings. But when Freya pressed her brass patron

e barrier into a worl

, deliberate orbits. Crystal chandeliers burned with perpetual white magical fire, casting brilliant light over hundreds of guests dressed in silk robes, velvet cloaks,

the glittering dresses around us, cut from simple midnight silk with long sleeves and a high collar,

es, he refused to part with his faded green canvas bag, clutching the strap tightly over

inst my hip. "These people smell li

breath, my hand resting securely on the bac

emerald-green dress that showed off the intricate runic tattoos trailing up her left arm, her crimson hair

vet booth, I felt a familiar, hea

feeling of

ng my senses map the space. Slowly, deliberately,

translucent runic veils that offered privacy to the highest bidders. But on the central

stood against th

broad shoulders cutting an imposing silhouette against the warm interior light. In his right h

yes were locked

aw as he recognized the girl from the rainy street corner sitting in the most exclusive priv

uld almost hear the thoughts running through his aristocratic mind: A poor, desperate sin

puzzle piece that didn't fit. His dark eyes swept over my plain midnight silk dress, his pureblood aura pressing down

flat, refusing to yield to the heavy, suffocating weight of hi

er glass of wine, "but Commander Tall, Dark, and Dangerous is staring at

'm a stray,"

that until we take hi

ough the cavernous hall, cutting

raised marble platform at the center of the room. An elderly alchemist with braided silver hair

h the space, amplified by ancient resonance runes. "Tonight, we pres

of preserved basilisk venom, a collection of first-edition curse-breaking folios. Freya held our

on slate from my sleeve. Beneath the table, my fingers flew across the run

Ten thousand Glowgold for confirmed coordinates o

he screen, and dumped the in

citement, "the final lot of the evening. Recovered from the deep

stal onto the stage. Resting atop the stone was a glass con

of a raven's egg. It pulsed with a pale, silver-blue radiance that

namere

rmur rippled th

n on the stone ledge. He leaned forward, both hands resting

rize? If he was, he would be a terrifying rival. He had the entire main branch's vault at his disposal, and he clearly wasn't