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... hat I wield is Fate itself.”

The words, thick with the resonance of the aether that imbued them, hung heavy in the air.

The full force of my aetheric intent pressed down with the weight of all my power, responsibilities, and fears, and with King’s Gambit burning bright and hot against my spine, my mind fractured into dozens of parallel branches in order to process every potential shred of information from the asuras’ responses.

Their eyes, all different colors, shone with ...

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As a princess that could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne gets kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realizes that she’s in over her head.

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

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Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

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