Daniel barely made it through the palace gates before he was out of the car, long strides eating up the marble floors of the entrance hall. Servants scattered like startled birds at the sight of his face, dark, thunderous, jaw locked so tight it hurt. He didn’t wait for announcements or bows. He stormed straight toward the east wing where his parents kept their private quarters, the heavy wooden doors slamming open with a crack that echoed through the corridors.

King Reginald and Queen Eleanor were in the sitting room, enjoying afternoon tea like the world wasn’t falling apart outside their gilded walls. His father looked up from a stack...