Chapter One: The Ashen Invitation

Serena put down the ledgers and examined the silver mark. She was the last member of the ruined House Vale still employed at court. Other people saw dust in old documents. Serena could find a motive for murder in one scraped-away line. “An Ashen Banquet is only held before a succession,” she said. “Then the old man is dying.” “He is still your father.” Lain smiled. “He forgot that before I did.” Thunder rolled from the palace. The invitation curled in the brazier’s heat. A drop of red wax fell onto the old cut on Lain’s finger. When blood touched wax, every sound vanished. Raindrops hung motionless beyond the window. The flame became a fixed red knife. Letters made of dark-gold sparks appeared before him.