Veyra Varnis had been born beneath a sky drenched in crimson light, a phenomenon her family believed to be an omen—either of greatness or disaster. Within the ancient halls of House Varnis, where portraits of long-dead Sovereigns adorned the walls and where every bloodline bore the markings of conquest and mastery over the Blood Laws, her birth had been celebrated with both awe and silent trepidation. She was the youngest daughter of Lord Varnius, and her blood was thought to be among the purest in generations.
From the moment she could walk, her life was not her own.
