Prologue
The girl had learned to swallow her screams.
The others had, too.
Their tears fell silently in the dark, salt tracks drying on hollow cheeks. Only their eyes still spoke. Wide, feverish windows into souls already half-dead.
Through rusted iron bars, she watched the misty woods blur past as the wagons jostled over the uneven trail, their wooden wheels groaning with every turn. Children huddled together around her. Without names. Without memories.
Their identities had not been stolen gently. They’d been carved out, leaving only raw absence where childhoods should have been. All they had now were the whispered voices that slithered between trees: fathers counting silver coins, mothers turning away, and the rumors of what waited when the wheels stopped turning.
A clearing broke through the trees, revealing the outskirts of a somber, deteriorating city. Townsfolk gathered as the caravan passed. Some stared, hungry for tragedy, while others hurried past with downcast eyes, as if the children’s suffering might vanish ifthey refused to witness it.
A tall figure approached her cage.
She barely lifted her head from the cool wooden floor to see him, her matted brunette hair clinging to her face, her body too weak to do more than watch.
Through her fever haze, the man’s features blurred into a smudge of shadows and browns, but his eyes cut through the fog with startling clarity. Warm, amber eyes that invited trust.
A dangerous comfort to offer a child who had learned that adult attention meant only pain.
“What’s her story?” The man’s gaze stayed on the girl.
“Bought her up north. Parents needed coin,” the lackey replied, irritated.
“How old?” the man asked.
“Nine, I reckon. Like the others they sold us.”
The man’s eyes swept over the girl, like they always did, a merchant appraising damaged goods.
“How much?”
“Twenty golden crowns,” the boss requested.
The buyer frowned. “Too much for a sick child. She won’t last till morning.”
The boss hesitated. “Fine. Twelve crowns.”
“Deal.” Their voices merged in rough agreement as they shook hands. The jingle of keys followed, and the child’s body went rigid, her hands tightened around the brown cloak she wore as the key turned in the lock. Her eyes darted toward the door, a dark maw waiting to devour her.
This cage was her world. Cold bars. Damp straw. The stench of rust. Her past—just fragments of betrayal that haunted her dreams.
She scrambled for the corner, but the boss’s hand closed around her ankle, dragging her back. Her feeble kicks and screams died quickly, her fever-weak body surrendering as she collapsed against him.
Her head fell against the stranger’s shoulder. The oddly familiar scent of ink and parchment. Then darkness.
∞∞∞
She awoke, shivering under blankets. The room swayed around her, walls rocking like a cradle. A silhouette appeared in the doorway, haloed by light, then approached with careful steps. She squinted through her fever at the man’s shifting face. He dragged a chair close—its shrill creak momentarily anchoring her thoughts. His hands drummed to some unknown tune against the worn armrest.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he pressed a cool cloth gently to her burning forehead. “But you’re safe now. I promise, no harm will come to you while I’m here.”
The word “safe” made her eyes widen. Her small fingers clutched his sleeve with desperate strength, as if letting go would send her back to the cage. When he dabbed her forehead with the cloth again, his hand trembled slightly. His gentleness felt foreign to her, the first kindness she’d known since being sold. She searched his face for deception but found only that warm amber gaze, steady and unflinching.
“I promise,” he whispered. “My name is Tehvan,” he said as he slipped an arm behind her back, easing her upright. He held a cup to her lips, and the liquid flowed warm and floral, with a hint of sweetness that lingered on her tongue. She had never tasted something so pleasant, only gritty water that crunched against her teeth.
His gaze flickered between her eyes, before drifting away. He momentarily seemed lost, worlds away from the small, shadowy room.
