Prologue

Betrayal was the only option.

As a Hand I was to be the sword and shield. Only to be wielded when the Heir saw fit. Oaths and collars could not be broken. The only release came from the Heir themselves. If they didn't take the collar off then you continued to serve until the oath was broken by death.

Mine or theirs, whichever came first.

The mask weighed heavily on my face, the collar simple and prominent. They didn't force me to become their Hand, I offered. They refused at first. Reluctant to subjugate me to a life I would not have chosen given the chance of something else.

But I offered.

Again and again, because they knew the system was wrong as much as I did. We couldn't change it before, not as we were, so instead we should use it. In the hopes that we could change it later. Even for a short time, life would be better. People would see that life didn't have to follow the traditions of old.

Now here I stand.

The lamplights are dim and the streets empty. Even the moon struggles to shine, hidden behind swarms of clouds. There are no stars tonight.

The clink of glass on stone alerts me to their presence. The second clink confirms it.

They've arrived.

I pull the hood down lower over my face and stand. Even though the mask covers it, I worry. The trio appear not a moment later, a smirk carved into the leader's porcelain features.

"You came."