Chapter 1

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I walked through the ruins of the territory where I had grown up.

Abandoned buildings stood along the roads, their walls blackened by fire. The fields had been burned, leaving behind nothing but ash and barren soil. Those who had survived the war wandered among what remained—starving, exhausted, yet unwilling to leave because they had nowhere else to go.

My people.

This land had once been prosperous. I had walked these roads thousands of times before, back when the fields were alive and smoke rose only from kitchen chimneys.

A land I loved. A land I grew up in. A land that knew me and watched me grow. A land that celebrated my birth.

Now, it was dying.

Some of the people watched me with worried eyes. They knew who I was—or, at least, they knew enough. The black hair. The red eyes. The unmistakable marks of the family that had once ruled and protected this territory.

The marks of the last surviving descendant of the Caius family.

They bowed as I passed.

Each bow weighed heavier than the last.

I continued through the ruins, searching for anything that could still be saved. A building that could be repaired. A field that might grow again. Some remaining piece of the land I loved that the war had not managed to take from me.

But everywhere I looked reminded me that I had arrived too late.

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“My lady, it isn’t safe for you to be out here.”

An old woman with graying hair took hold of my hand and hurriedly pulled me toward the nearest shelter.

I recognized it immediately.

It had once been my favorite bookstore. I remembered its shelves overflowing with books, the faint smell of parchment that greeted me whenever I opened the door, and the owner pretending not to notice whenever I stayed long after sunset.

Now, most of it had been reduced to rubble. Only a small room remained standing, enclosed by cracked walls that looked as though they might collapse at any moment.

The woman guided me inside before turning to examine my face. Her eyes filled with pity as she wiped the dark smudges from my cheek with the edge of her sleeve.

Beneath that pity, however, was something gentler.

Worry.

It made me smile. I had seen the same expression on nearly every face I had passed. These people had lost their homes, their families, and almost everything they possessed—yet somehow, they were still worried about me.

“You should be worrying about yourself,” I told her softly.

Her hand paused against my cheek.

“You are the last of your family, my lady,” she said. “If we do not worry about you, who will?”

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“I’m sorry I was late.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” Seia stared at the old woman as she wiped the dark smudges from her face.

“I’m glad you’re all right, my lady. That’s what matters to me.”

Her people did not want her to worry. Despite the destruction, the pain and everything they had suffered, all they did when she looked at them was smile.

She tried to swallow her sobs, but she ended up crying anyway.

She was alone now—and yet, somehow, she wasn’t.

“Lady Seia, look!” A little girl, no more than eight years old, appeared from around the corner, clutching a book tightly against her chest. “Grandma said you used to steal this because it was your favorite.”

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I remembered that book.

It was a history of the Royal Family and their Protectors—the only one of its kind. Anya, the old woman who owned the bookstore, had once told me it was an heirloom, passed down to the heirs of the Caius Family so they would know whom to protect when the land had forgotten its true rulers.

As it had once been prophesied.

I had read those pages many times. The Divine Family held the highest power. They were the true royal family, stripped of their imperial title and reduced to a dukedom.

The Holy Family of Adair.

Our family, their Divine Protectors, had been bound instead to protect the throne through the trickery of the other nobility. But an oath was not the only thing that tied my father to those who sat upon it. Duke Pietro had grown up alongside King Theobard, the late King Theseus, and Duke Erial of Adair. Whatever had bound him to his duty, his affection for them had been his own.

“My lady, we do not wish any harm to come to you.” Anya held the book out to me, her wrinkled hands trembling. “But you are the sole heir of the Caius Family. This belongs to you.”

Her eyes met mine.

“And it seems this kingdom has already forgotten its true rulers.”

I reached for the book, but her fingers remained firm around it.

For a moment, we both held on.

I looked down at her hands. She had kept it safe all this time, and now she could scarcely bring herself to let it go. Perhaps she understood what receiving it would mean for me.

Perhaps that was why I could not pull it from her grasp.

The history I had read as a child was now a duty I would have to fulfill. One that might demand my life.

“Thank you for your guidance all this time, Anya.”

She released the book. Then she took my hand.

“May the power of my blood be your strength, Lady Seia.”

Before I could draw away, she raised the back of my hand to her forehead.

I knew those words.

“Anya—”

She held my hand there, and I went still.

Few outside the Caius Dukedom knew of the blood oath. Fewer understood that speaking the words alone did nothing. They had to be meant. The giver had to be willing to surrender everything when the time came.

Their life. Their living blood.

Hers, now, should I need it.

I had come here apologizing because I could not protect her. Now she was offering me the life I had failed to keep safe.

“Please,” I whispered. “Take it back.”

But the oath was a gift, and the receiver could not refuse it. If I died without using hers, Anya would feel my death through the bond.

She lowered my hand from her forehead but kept it between her own.

“My life is now yours to use, my lady. I know you will use it well.”

I could not bring myself to thank her for that.

“Until then,” she said, “I will be waiting for our land to shine once more beneath the sun.”

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“Has anyone seen Abel?”

“Prince Abel was sent away as soon as the war began,” Rael, my father’s advisor, murmured. He winced as a doctor wound a bandage around his chest and over the deep gash in his shoulder.

“It seems King Theobard discovered he was alive. That was what prompted the attack.”

I sat beside him, looking at those who remained.

There were so few.

Bodies lay scattered across the ground—my people beside knights of the Royal Family. Among the living were wounded enemy soldiers, their eyes shifting uncertainly whenever someone approached them.

But my people tended to them all the same.

The war was over. The wounded were still wounded.

“And my mother and father?”

My voice faltered. I had not wanted to ask.

As long as no one said it, I could keep looking for them. I could imagine my father giving orders somewhere beyond the ruins, my mother kneeling beside someone who needed her.

But I was the only Caius here.

“I’m sorry, my lady.”

I looked up.

The sky was bright. Morning sunlight fell across the ruins, across the blood and the people bending over the wounded.

I stayed still, waiting for the words to become something I could understand.

“And Melody?”

My little sister had promised to sing me a song when I returned. I had told her to practice it well.

That was two weeks ago.

No one answered.

I lowered my gaze to Rael, but he was looking past me.

Sir Exe stood nearby with a bundle in his arms.

“She was found near the ruins of your room, my lady.” His voice was quiet. “We believe she tried to hide in the secret corridor connecting your room to hers. When the building collapsed…”

He looked down at what he carried.

I rose, though I could scarcely feel my legs beneath me.

Black hair lay against the edge of the blanket.

Melody.

I reached for her.

Sir Exe lowered her into my arms carefully. The thick blanket covered most of her, but it could not hide what the collapse had done. I searched what remained of her face for something familiar.

Only two weeks.

I had only been gone for two weeks.

A sob broke from me as I gathered her against my chest. I sank down with her, holding her close, rocking gently as though she could still feel it. As though I could soothe whatever fear she had felt beneath the ruins.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, my little love.”

She had been waiting for me.

She had a song to sing.

I bent my head over hers and held her tighter, but there was no answering movement, no small hand reaching for mine.

I wanted to believe she was at peace now. That she was no longer frightened.

But all I could think of was her hiding in that corridor.

My parents were gone. My sister was gone. Around me lay the people I had been born to protect.

And I was still here.

A Protector.

I could not stop crying.

A blanket settled over my shoulders. Rael had come to kneel beside me, one hand pressed carefully against his bandaged chest.

“I’m here whenever you need me, Your Grace.”