With rope tied under one pillow and a tiny blade hidden beneath another, Vaasalisa Kozár scurried around a dimly lit room in the High Temple of Mireh.
She would not be here when the sun came up.
The people dancing in the downstairs hall of this enormous temple were the perfect distraction, with their aggravatingly loud music and communal dances, absorbed in themselves and their honeyed wine without a care for the bride or groom.
She despised each and every person in that great hall. Every per- son who had attended this fraud of a ceremony.
Her brother, Dominik, especially, with his serpentine smile and glinting raven hair. As she peeled off her ugly white marriage gown, violent images of ripping that hair from his head and silencing his audacious laugh pulsed in her mind.
But his death was not at the forefront of her priorities. He had al- ready slithered back to his palace and his pretty women in their home empire of Asterya anyway. Whatever reasons Vaasa’s viper of a brother had to arrange her marriage only months after their father’s death…