Chapter One: The Ashen Invitation

His pride in the theft did not. “Pay it.” The memory rose: a thin boy behind a stable, clutching a coin and believing he had stolen a fragment of power from fate. Fire consumed the feeling. Lain still remembered the coin’s design, the apothecary, and Mia’s smile when her fever broke. He simply felt no triumph. Then the future struck him. A banquet hall. Bluecrystal wine from the Seventh Wharf. A servant entering from the left. Colorless foam inside a silver cup. Lain drinking, his throat burning, his body collapsing before the royal table. Mordred drawing a vial engraved with a frost dragon from Lain’s sleeve. The Red Dragon faction accusing the north of murdering a prince. Crown Prince Cassian sealing the northern embassy.