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Made. Fate riddled over the word in her head. She wanted to sleep away the pain in her heart and never awaken. The time she had with her brother—that which she longed to protect—slipped through her fingers. She now regretted her negligence towards Neco’s chronic misdemeanors.

Fortuna sheltered her with the blanket. “Cry as much as you need, little Fate, and rest well. There is much to learn, but I promise that by the time I am done teaching you, there will be hell to pay in Nex.”

The Madam’s warmth brought Fate to tears.

The Igni did more than conjure up fire; their passion burned deep within their souls. Fate had read that their fervor often made its mark in history, and more frequently, left reminders of how easily the world fell at the hands of the Tainted.

Fortuna seemed to have somehow escaped the fate of her people. In fact, her siblings carried the same, pure warmth. Their family had fought extinction many times, but they always survived. Whenever anyone spoke of the Igni, they always said the same thing: They are survivors.

Fortuna had exited again, leaving Fate with her thoughts. She wrapped herself in her blanket and shuffled to the round window in her room.

She gazed upon the snowflakes outside, which drifted so peacefully that she envied them. The bite of winter was harsher in Nitor. Fate had always considered the weather in Macellarius particularly frigid, but now understood that it was because she knew nothing of the conditions beyond the border.

The air rushed against her cheeks, stinging her skin and nearly cutting through her the moment she opened the window. She shivered and pulled the blanket tighter, until only her nose and eyes faced the bitter wind.

Her new quarters offered no view of Macellarius, merely one of Nitor. The palace rested behind an iron gate, past a prosperous community. Women bustled down the path in their extravagant gowns. They walked beside their counterparts and laughed, careless of the suffering in Macellarius, or even right under their noses.

Fate observed her room to remind herself that she had a new home. Her living space contained few pieces of furniture: a tall bureau, a small table, and an oval mirror. She maneuvered to the mirror on her knees and gazed at her reflection. Her violet eyes burned with tears, and her dark hair tangled around her cheeks. She failed to see the same queen that Fortuna sought.

“I am nothing, not even Cruentus Fate.” She appreciated the blanket, for it hid her heart and her tear-streamed face.

Fortuna shortly discovered her new pupil encased within the ball of fabric. She approached carefully, set down a mug of tea on the table, and made no attempt to remove the blanket. It appeared she respected Fate’s desire to hide.

“At first it will be difficult,” she said, “but with time you will come to know your own strength.”

Fate heard her words and wanted to become stronger. She wanted to conquer the land and restore it. She sought to protect Abyssus with what little power she possessed.

“You must persevere,” Fortuna said. “No matter how difficult or painful it may be, you do what you must to survive. I will aid you to the best of my ability, and you will grow up to be queen, but not Neco’s queen—a queen of your own volition.”

Fate rested her head against Fortuna’s chest. At that moment, she pushed her feelings far to the back of her mind and clung to the hope of restoring Nex. She received affirmation of her new goal and submerged herself within it.

I will reclaim Nex, no matter how difficult, no matter how long it takes. This kingdom is mine.

—-END OF SPECIAL SNEAK PREVIEW—-

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Special Sneak Preview

Only a fool crosses a god.

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Only a fool would split hairs with a god, least of all the goddess of death, but Ellaeva would count herself such a fool and consider it worth it—if she could get away with it.

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