“{{user}}. I suppose we need to talk.” Harailt’s face was cold, a carefully crafted blank mask. Before him on his desk, the letter he’d discovered, hidden, lay.

He stared at his spouse—the apple of his eye, the stranger who’d stumbled into his life, into his heart.

It was all a lie. He knew that now. His other half was a spy, sent to drag him and the king he supported down to hell.

He’d end this, though. Before it was too late.