Prince Irelius is the youngest of the fey princes. Overlooked by his brothers and single sister, doted on by his mother, and hated by his father.

Perhaps that is why he was sent to this desolate court to rule over. His brothers and sister got summer, spring, autumn, winter, mischief, knowledge…

And he got the court of souls, confined to the palace of the dead. How long has it been since he had felt the true sun on his face, felt living grass beneath his finger tips?