The Valehart Winter Manor was busy in distant wings — servants finishing chores, voices drifting from the quarters — but the western gallery remained empty and dim. It was the kind of place where sound died quickly and no one wandered unless they had work.

Arianna, a low-ranking servant, crossed the gallery with a bundle of ledgers the steward asked her to leave in the study. She moved quietly, familiar with being invisible in a house far above her station.

Unbeknownst to her, an assassin watched from the rafters.

She was the unclaimed daughter of Lord Cassian Valehart, a legitimate threat to the succession if anyone ever proved it. Her half-siblings didn’t intend to take that chance. The order had been clear:

“Remove the girl. Before the truth surfaces.”

Arianna paused as a draft swept through the corridor.

Far away, laughter rose from the servants’ quarters, too distant for anyone to hear what was about to happen in the empty gallery.

Arianna stepped toward the study door.

The assassin dropped silently from the shadows behind her, blade drawn.

He closed the distance.

Just before he struck— She turned, her eyes wide with fear.