[Theon's Pov]
Five years.
It's been five years since the heavens themselves decided we deserved a little peace in this death-scented palace.
Five years since the tyrant, Emperor Cassius—yes, that Cassius, the one who used to swing his sword like it was a conductor's baton and the servants were the orchestra—stopped turning palace corridors into graveyards.
He was a demon in royal robes, a lunatic with a crown, a nightmare given human form. He'd behead a noble for breathing too loud and once sliced a tray in half because the soup was lukewarm. No one dared ask how he knew. He just knew.
And thus… Princess Lavinia was born.
Or dropped by a celestial phoenix. Who knows. She's too strange to be fully human.
But whatever she is, it worked.
The fairy girl. The god-blessed miracle. The unhinged cherub with two dimples and a sword sharper than her father's tongue.
Some say she was sent by the heavens. Others say a deity got drunk and thought, "Eh, maybe this will fix him."
