HECTOR BAYES

It wasn't the overcast darkness of the gloomy, storm-clouded sky above that worried me as we marched away from the stone castle on horseback.

Instead, it was the porcelain tusk of the imp’s drawn face as she pushed her petite form to the front line of the castle crowd just before I gave the match order.

I remembered the way her eyebrows had creased slightly as though in confusion, and a lone stab of guilt uncurled in my belly after I realized I hadn't even been to see the other maidens since my unwanted exile as King of the mountain city.

It would have to wait till the...