The sun was barely a suggestion on the horizon.
The sky was a bruised purple that faded into gray.
The Royal Academy was silent. Even the magical wards hummed at a low frequency.
Iris Silvermoon walked the perimeter of the stone walls.
She walked with perfect, elven balance. Her feet made no sound on the dew-covered grass.
Inside her mind, however, there was chaos.
For five hundred years, Iris had been a creature of logic.
She observed. She calculated. She reported.
Her life was a straight line stretching from the past into the future.
Duty was the gravity that held her existence together.
But now, the gravity was gone. She was floating in a void of terrifying emotion.
She stopped near the old bell tower.
She leaned against the cold stone and closed her eyes.
Her mission parameters were clear.
Objective: Secure alliance with the Child of Destiny.
Method: Induce romantic attachment.
Target: Theodore Aldridge.
It should have been simple.
