Prologue
Prologue
The Night of Novoye Nachalo
His eyes sparkle with mischief as he pulls me through the crowd. The ballroom around us hums with laughter and conversation, but I only have eyes for him.
This is my moment—I feel it as surely as I feel his hand clasped in mine. Every nerve in my body is attuned to him: his smile, his laughter, the hunger in his gaze.
I am the one who suggested we slip away, though the arch of his brow told me he was already thinking the same. Now we’re weaving through the revelers toward the nearest exit, neither of us glancing back.
Tonight’s chosen distraction is Luc, the chef’s son. A nobody, really—perfect. Someone I can pour my affection into without consequence. More heartache, maybe, but less drama when I’m inevitably bartered off to some nobleman in another kingdom.
The night air kisses my flushed skin as we step outside, and before I can even glimpse the moon, his lips are on mine, my back pressed to the ballroom’s outer wall.
“Wait,” I gasp between kisses. “Somewhere—”
“Private,” he finishes for me, brushing my lips with his own between words.
He grabs my hand again and leads me into the gardens. He doesn’t know the palace grounds, which only makes the moment more thrilling.
He pulls me into a secluded alcove of hedges and trees, and his lips find mine again.
No matter how many kisses I’ve had, it still leaves me breathless—mesmerized.
I hold nothing back, and neither does he. His hands roam my body. One tangles in my hair, the other at my waist, pulling me closer. My fingers thread through his curls, clinging to him as I lose myself in the heat and pressure and closeness.
This is when I feel most alive.
He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against mine. We say nothing, just breathe, our eyes locked. For a moment, it feels like the night around us is taking this moment too, breathing deeply with us.
A rustling sound snaps the moment.
“What was that?” I move to turn my head in confusion, but he gently redirects my face back to his.
“It’s just the wind,” he murmurs, leaning in again.
“No,” I lightly against his chest. If it’s my sister coming to drag me back to the ballroom, I’d rather hide than be caught mid-tryst with a servant’s boy. “What if it’s Katya?”
He hesitates, eyes flicking between mine, torn between caution and desire. Then he opens his mouth—maybe to argue, maybe to agree.
But I’ll never know what he was going to say.
Because the next moment, a blade erupts from his chest.
Luc’s eyes find mine—wide, disbelieving—and in them, I see the truth.
He is dying.
A terrible, high-pitched screech fills my ears—only when the pain tears my throat raw do I realize the sound is my own scream.
Luc collapses backwards as the blade retracts. Reality flies back to me as I realize we are not alone. There is someone behind Luc, someone who did this to him.
My eyes scan the dark beyond Luc’s collapsing frame—until I find them. A pair of eyes, like shards of obsidian, watching from the shadows. The face surrounding them is coated in slick black paint, as if the man has melted into the night itself.
He steps forward, massive and silent, the black of his clothing and skin making him more shadow than man. A towering figure from a nightmare, silent and sure in his movements.
I open my mouth to scream—only to realize I already am. The hoarse, ragged noise ripping from my throat is mine, though it feels detached, like it belongs to someone else entirely.
He grins. The expression cuts across the black paint like a wound.
“You’re next, little girl.”
His voice is deep, with an accent I can’t place, but it scratches at something in the back of my mind—a warning I can’t quite name.
He’s not from here.
He doesn’t belong.
And I don’t have time to understand why.
I stumble back, searching desperately for anything I could use to defend myself.
That’s when I see her.
Katya. She came looking for me.
Her eyes meet mine and my heart breaks with guilt.
This is my fault, after what I said earlier.
But there’s no time to reflect.
The assassin’s hand closes around my throat.
“Katya,” I scream her name –
Then white-hot, blinding pain blooms from my throat.
The quiet that follows is strangely comforting. Everything becomes suddenly silent. Not the world around me, of course – there’s still shouting, the clatter of footsteps, and the hushed words of my sister – but inside me there is a peaceful hush. Like the moment just before a storm breaks, but in reverse. I feel…light. Like I am floating outside myself.
My body’s on the ground. I know that much. There’s warmth spilling from somewhere I can’t quite feel anymore, and my limbs are too heavy to lift. But my eyes—they still find her.
My sister.
She’s there, kneeling beside me, hands brushing the hair from my face, saying words I can no longer decipher. Her face is twisted with fear and something deeper—grief, maybe, or the terror of being left behind. And yet, looking at her, I feel no fear. Only clarity. Like the fog of everything—pain, past, doubt—has finally lifted.
I see her future, somehow. Not in visions, but in feeling. She’s going to be okay.
She’ll cry. She’ll break. But not forever. I can see it in the way her eyes fight through the blur of tears, in the fire still burning behind her panic. She’ll live. And more than that—she’ll find joy again. Real joy. Laughter that doesn’t feel borrowed. Love that feels like home.
A small part of me smiles.
That’s enough.
The sounds drift further away. Her voice is softer now, even though I know she’s still speaking. My eyes grow heavier, but I don’t feel afraid.
I just feel done.
And as the darkness edges in, the last thing I see is her—my sister—alive, and burning with all the life I’m leaving behind.
And as I leave this world behind, the last thing I feel is…peace.
Author’s Note
Thank you for stepping into this story.
I don’t take it lightly that you’re here, reading these words. This prologue... it’s a shard of something broken—a moment you’re not supposed to witness, but now that you have, nothing will be the same.
Hold on to this scene. Let it haunt you a little.
Because soon, we’ll be stepping back in time—
before the blood,
before the crown,
before the lies.
I hope you feel everything.
—Lanee
Playlist Pick for this Chapter: “No Time To Die” by Billie Eilish
