Maya woke to the sound of soft rustling outside her door. The Denovan estate always had people moving around—maids tending to rooms, gardeners sweeping the gravel paths, cooks preparing meals—but she was still getting used to it. her life had been quiet, simple, with no one but herself to rely on. Now, every time she stepped out, there were eyes watching, footsteps trailing, hands ready to serve.

She drew the curtains aside, letting in the pale morning light. Anika was already awake, sitting cross-legged on the rug with her sketchbook. The little girl’s tongue peeked out from the corner of her lips as she carefully cut out shapes from colored...