The grand hall was drenched in the warm sun of early evening. The stone floors reflected the light like a mirror, and the faint echoes of the castle's silence sat heavily in the air. At the far end of the hall, Kaden sat on the throne chair, reserved for his father, his fingers gripping the armrests as though they were the only thing keeping him tethered. His jaw was tight, his blue eyes fixated on the double doors ahead. He could feel the anticipation crawling over his skin like an itch he couldn't scratch. She was coming—Seraphina.
The name alone was enough to send a sour taste through his mouth. He didn't know whether it was the arrogance laced in her letter, the reputation that preceded her, or the mere fact that she had forced her way into his life and made an early arrival. But her arrival was inevitable, a storm he couldn't abscond from, no matter how desperately he wanted to.