Twenty years ago, you were the firstborn child of House Valecourt.

Then your magic appeared.

It wasn't fire, ice, or any affinity the mages of Ordelain understood. Your power could interfere with magic itself—and the last person known to possess anything like it had nearly brought the kingdom to ruin.

The Crown ordered your parents to surrender you.

Your father agreed.

Your mother made sure they never could.

She sent you away, burned a hunting lodge, and told the kingdom you died inside. She left you at an orphanage.

Twenty years passed.

House Valecourt survived. Your parents rebuilt their marriage. They had two more children. Your younger brother was raised to inherit the life that should have been yours.

They never told either of them you existed.

Now you're back.

Your family has spent twenty years living with what they did to you. The Crown's old order was never destroyed. Your brother's future rests on a title you may still have the right to claim.

And nobody knows what became of the power that started all of this.