Ceren sat by the large window in the ornate, if small, quarters assigned to her in the Freyarr Palace. She brushed her auburn hair as she considered all the various angles of the situation. If she played the game right, she could both secure the keisara's patronage and steer Kevlin's course.

She gazed out over the manicured lawns and the Tamarr Palace beyond, her thoughts turning to Kevlin. He was the key. Events were moving fast, and the thought of helping shape the future of the empire thrilled her. She couldn't be in a better position. Success would depend on some careful planning and perfect execution, but she would make it happen.

A soft knock on her door pulled her out of her reverie. She didn't have any full-time servants here, so she rose and crossed the small sitting room to her outer door.

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Sitara stood in the hall, her face streaked with tears, blood caking her arms and neck.

"Sitara, what happened?" Ceren exclaimed and drew the young servant into her rooms. Could something have happened to the keisara? Could the enemy have attacked again? Dozens of questions clamored through her mind.

Sitara entered the room and swayed, as if exhausted. Ceren led her to a soft couch.

"Lady Ceren, you're the only one I can turn to for help."

Ceren sat beside Sitara. "You know I'll do anything to help." What could have happened? How could she capitalize on the situation, whatever it was?

Her thoughts scattered like a flock of birds when she met Sitara's gaze and noticed that her eyes were completely black.

Sitara clutched Ceren's arms. "I knew I could count on you."

The darkness in her eyes erupted into the room and consumed Ceren.