The middle woman opened her cherub lips to show two rows of white, razor blade teeth in greeting as I walked up the aisle to kneel before the trio, who sat perched upon three thrones made of ivory. No one knows where they came from and they never elected to tell whoever asked.

I bowed my head towards them. The two males, on opposite sides of the woman, looked bored to be here, utterly still while Acilia was practically buzzing in her seat.

Acilia spoke, “Rise child. I trust you come with good news?”

“Yes M’lady. The party we sent to Estron has returned with what you asked for.”

I pulled back my bag from my side and pulled out the mangled crown, once glowing and proud, now muddied and missing jewels.

“King Ister is dead.”