The heavy brocade curtains of the Grand Library muffled the sounds of the bustling castle. Ostensibly, Lucian was perusing ancient texts, attempting to glean some hidden wisdom that might help him unravel the tangled threads of his predetermined doom. In reality, the leather-bound volumes felt like a mockery of his situation. He’d written them, or rather, he’d written the world from which they originated. Now, he was trapped inside it, a character in a play he no longer controlled.