C485 THE FATHER'S TRAP

"Do not take another step, Aria," the Young Prince commanded, his arm barring her path as they stood before the heavy doors of the royal nursery. The wood was weeping. That thick, black liquid was not just a stain; it moved like a living vine, twisting into the shape of the crown they thought had been destroyed.

Aria’s hand flew to the hilt of the silver dagger at her waist