So this was to be my new home.

An ugly tower sat at the edge of a cliff.

The Spire was unlike anything else in Zospery: a tower of gleaming, dark stone that rose with stark precision, its narrow peak tapering off toward the sky. Each level of its structure carved with meticulous care, the stone etched in places with ancient symbols and crests of past rulers, blending history with legend in ways that only Zospery's architects dared.

Lord Alaric's Spire.

The spire that had given him title, rank, and a reputation. The massive archway entrance came into sight, flanked by two stone figures on either side, their faces worn by centuries of wind and sea, yet unmistakable as the city's revered protectors.

My eyes drifted upward to the tower's narrow windows, spaced evenly along the Spire's height, each window spilling soft, amber light against the evening's shadowed hues. Here and there, flickers of torchlight glowed within, revealing brief silhouettes of scholars and stewards moving through the corridors.

My gaze followed the Spire's peak, where long, weather-worn banners streamed in the breeze, bearing Zospery's blue and silver. These colors, vivid even in fading daylight, were a testament to the city's endurance—a city built on the faith that knowledge and power intertwined were the keys to survival.

With every passing second, the Spire's presence deepened, its aura one of authority and mystery, calling all who approached to wonder what lay within its walls. It stood as a testament to Zospery's resilience, a place that did not yield its secrets easily.

The Spire seemed to reach out to meet me, as though assessing the worth of yet another who dared enter its halls, seeking the wisdom it guarded in its silent, towering watch over the city.

Hester chittered next to me, lips pursed as she glared at the surrounding city. "It's too white. Too pristine. Where's the character?"

Amusement flickered through me. "Shush, and admire the view, Hester. There will be very few chances in the future for us to do so."

Across from me, Rook chuffed like a caged tiger. He hated the city, and everything it represented.

Shooting him a quiet smile, I turned to admire the view. The sun was setting, and the city seemed alive.

Lanterns of blue glass hung from every corner, casting cool, wavering light onto the polished cobblestones beneath the carriage. The streets wound upward in a labyrinthine maze, each twist and turn revealing glimpses of towering minarets and archways carved from pale limestone, their edges softened by the embrace of creeping ivy and sea-blown moss. At this hour, the bustling life of the port had quieted to a murmur—echoing footfalls, the distant clang of a bell, the low hum of a tavern's song that drifted down from a far-off alley. I angled myself to look behind, taking in the expanse beyond the other side of the island port.

Beyond the harbor, Zospery sprawled like a sleeping giant. Its silhouette was broken by the shapes of elegant towers that seemed to sway with the rhythm of the tide. Some reached high enough to pierce the stars, their tips crowned with spires that glittered like shards of glass. Others leaned gracefully over narrow canals where boats bobbed gently, their sails furled like wings at rest.

My gaze lingered on the faint glow of the city's heart—the noble quarter, where lights danced on terraces and courtyards that overlooked the sea, each one a haven of wealth and influence. I felt a pang as I took it in: a city of unmatched beauty, its luxury built on the backs of those who labored unseen in its shadows.

For all its enchantment, there was a sharpness to Zospery, a kind of hunger in the way the marble facades gleamed, like teeth bared in a smile.

"Well, I think it's splendid." Bastian's voice broke the silence.

I turned my head to lift my eyebrows at him.

Ignoring Rook's disapproving glare, he grinned at me. "Don't you, my lady? We're in a new city, surrounded by new people, with all sorts of new possibilities."

"It would be better under different circumstances," I mused, dragging my gaze away from him and back to the architecture.

"Of course, of course." He cleared his throat.

"Pardon Bas," Rook said with a firm shake of his head. "He gets carried away."

Beside me, Hester scoffed. "He seems a bit young to be out here."

Bastian scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm plenty old. Seen a lot more combat than you, that's for sure."

Her eyes glittered as she leaned forward. "Is that so, young man?"

Leaning forward as well, Bastian lifted his chin. "It is."

"Enough." Rook groaned, rolling his eyes toward the heavens. "Quiet down. Both of you."

Chuckling, I glanced between the two of them. We continued our ascent toward the Spire, the carriage creaking slightly as the cobbled streets turned steeper. I could feel the air change around us—cooler, touched with the salt of the sea as the breeze swept in from the cliffs. The sounds of the city softened, muted by the height we were gaining. With every turn, the grandeur of Zospery unfolded more completely, a city where wealth and beauty masked a multitude of secrets.

"Never thought I'd see the day I'd be taking orders from a child," Hester muttered, shooting Bastian a glare, though the corner of her mouth twitched with the hint of a smile.

"Careful, Hester," I teased, "he may challenge you to a duel to defend his honor."

"Oh, he wouldn't dare," she shot back, a spark of mischief lighting her eyes.

Bastian puffed his chest out, but Rook's warning growl cut through his words. "Focus," he reminded us all, his tone heavy with the weight of the journey we had undertaken.

I settled back against the cushioned seat, fingers tracing the edge of the window as I watched Zospery's skyline give way to the looming shadow of the Spire. It was growing darker, and the torches that lined the tower's winding road cast long, wavering shadows across the white stone. It struck me then, just how foreign this place truly was—how far I was from home, from the warmth of the desert sun, and from the people I had known all my life.

As we drew nearer to the Spire's entrance, my thoughts drifted to Alaric, the man who had become my reluctant host. A Lord—Zospery's best and most loyal, with a reputation for shrewdness and precision. I hadn't known what to expect when I first heard his name, but now, the shape of his character was slowly becoming clear: a man who hid his intentions behind formality and routine, always watching, always calculating. Even now, I wasn't entirely certain if I could trust him even as my sworn protector.

The carriage pulled to a stop before the grand entrance. The massive iron gates swung open with a low groan, revealing a stone courtyard that seemed to echo the stark grandeur of the Spire itself. Guards moved with crisp precision, their blue-and-silver uniforms blending into the cool hues of the stone. Servants stepped forward, bowing low, as Rook disembarked first, his eyes scanning the surroundings with the instinct of a man who had learned not to trust appearances.

I followed, the cool breeze tugging at my hair as I stepped down. A strange sense of finality washed over me, mingled with a determination I couldn't quite name. For better or worse, this was where I would remain—where I would prove myself.

Alaric was waiting for us already, his silhouette framed by the archway. He stood tall and still, the silver threads in his dark clothing catching the light from the torches. There was no warmth in his eyes as he looked at me, only the same keen interest I had come to expect.

"Welcome, Princess," he said, his voice as steady as ever, his gaze shifting from me to my companions.

I motioned to the city below, once again admiring it. "Your city is... impressive."

"It has its charms. I imagine you'll come to appreciate them in time."

There was a challenge in his words, subtle and well-disguised, but I caught it. I met his gaze head-on, refusing to be the first to look away. "I look forward to it," I said with a confidence I didn't entirely feel.

He held my stare a moment longer before turning sharply on his heel. "This way, then. We have prepared accommodations for you and your retinue."

Rook signaled to the rest of his men, who were already moving to unload our belongings from the carriage, while I followed Alaric through the archway. The heavy wooden doors of the Spire opened, and we entered the grand hall, a cavernous space lined with tall pillars of polished black stone. The air inside was cool, and the faint scent of aged parchment and herbs lingered—an aroma that spoke of history and secrets I could only guess at.

Torchlight flickered along the walls, casting shifting patterns across the marble floors as Alaric led us through the winding corridors. I tried to memorize the turns, but they seemed endless—a maze of passages that all looked alike, each corner blending seamlessly into the next. We passed more stone figures, their faces carved in expressions of judgment or wisdom, and banners hung from the vaulted ceilings, each bearing the blue-and-silver crest of Zospery.

"It is beautiful," I said softly, the weight of the place pressing down on my shoulders.

Alaric glanced back at me, his face shadowed by the dim light. "It is also dangerous, Princess," he said, his tone grave. "But that, I believe, you already know."

I straightened, a chill running down my spine. Setting my jaw, I stared at the stone figures. "I've come to expect danger. It does not frighten me."

He paused, one brow lifting slightly, as if to challenge my words, but then he simply nodded. "Good," he said. "Then you will fit in well here."

The rooms he led me to were more lavish than I expected—draped in rich fabrics, with large windows overlooking the sea, the waves crashing against the cliffs below. My belongings were already arranged neatly, and a fire burned low in the hearth, casting a soft glow over the space. I glanced back at Alaric, who lingered in the doorway.

"If you need anything," he said, his voice distant, "my steward will see to it."

"Thank you," I replied, watching as he gave a curt nod before turning away.

As the door closed behind him, sealing me within this new world, I blew out a long, steady breath. The weight of the journey, of all that had happened, settled heavily on my shoulders, and I felt a sudden surge of determination. If this was to be my home, then I would make it mine. No matter what secrets the Spire held—or what dangers lay ahead—I would face them.

I moved to the window, staring out at the rolling sea below, where the waves crashed endlessly against the rocks, white foam glistening in the moonlight. Somewhere beyond the horizon was my home, the desert kingdom of Sigyn. But I couldn't afford to think about that now.

Now, I had to survive here.