Emily stood before the vast windows of her office in the Lords' Castle, high atop Mount Davos.
The entire city stretched out before her. From this height, she could see the winding streets, the countless buildings, and the distant harbor where ships came and went.
Davos. Her family. And she failed to protect it.
Emily lowered her gaze and closed her eyes.
The images came unbidden. The screams. The bloodshed. The bodies scattered across the floating island. The faces of those who had looked to her for protection, only to die before her eyes.
She was the Witch of Davos. The Known Lord. She had survived countless dangers and overcome countless enemies in her long life.
Yet when Davos needed her most, she had failed.
And Adeline…
Emily's eyes glistened with tears.
She remembered a little girl in dirty clothes and hollow cheeks, a child from the slums of the Outer Borough. A girl who possessed little more than a stubborn streak and a pair of defiant eyes.
