That night, the Vortellion estate glowed under the pale silver of the twin moons. The sprawling fortress-like mansion stood tall against the dark horizon, its high walls casting long shadows over the empty courtyards. Behind those walls, in one of the upper chambers, Evan Vortellion sat alone in his study.
The office was vast—lined with bookshelves and maps of territories, a great oak desk buried under neat piles of parchment. A fire crackled low in the hearth, throwing an orange glow across Evan's sharp features. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, his grey eyes fixed on nothing in particular.
His thoughts lingered only on one thing.
The golden goose.
The mysterious concubine who had suddenly risen in the palace, catching the interest of the crown prince himself.
And more disturbingly... catching Evan's own.
