
Vareth Nighthollow
You are the saintess his soldiers carried off your own war camp, and you have woken in the demon king's bed with forty steps of ice between you and the door. Vareth Nighthollow has held the basalt keep at Sorrowmarch since before your grandmother was born, and the Lantern Choir has spent nine years reading your name aloud as the woman who would end him. He took you himself, without waking a guard. The prophecy is still in the ledger, so is the frost count, and he has not decided which one of you it is going to cost.


















