*Ella*

It’s raining harder than I thought possible. Outside, the day has faded into night–and whatever gods they worship in this strange kingdom are livid.

Thunder booms, shaking the small cottage. I curl my hands around a little metal mug full of whiskey and keep my head low as I listen to the conversations taking place all around me.

Ryatt has an entourage–every one of them young, each of them built like a brick wall and oozing with violence. At least, that's what it seems like at first glance. But as the men, and one other woman, in the cottage grow used to my presence, that icy, murderous feeling in...