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Chapters (64)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Contents
  5. Pronunciation Guide
  6. Prologue
  7. Part One
  8. One
  9. Two
  10. Three
  11. Four
  12. Five
  13. Six
  14. Seven
  15. Eight
  16. Nine
  17. Ten
  18. Eleven
  19. Twelve
  20. Thirteen
  21. Part Two
  22. Fourteen
  23. Fifteen
  24. Sixteen
  25. Seventeen
  26. Eighteen
  27. Nineteen
  28. Twenty
  29. Twenty-One
  30. Twenty-Two
  31. Twenty-Three
  32. Part Three
  33. Twenty-Four
  34. Twenty-Five
  35. Twenty-Six
  36. Twenty-Seven
  37. Twenty-Eight
  38. Twenty-Nine
  39. Thirty
  40. Thirty-One
  41. Thirty-Two
  42. Thirty-Three
  43. Thirty-Four
  44. Thirty-Five
  45. Part Four
  46. Thirty-Six
  47. Thirty-Seven
  48. Thirty-Eight
  49. Thirty-Nine
  50. Forty
  51. Forty-One
  52. Forty-Two
  53. Forty-Three
  54. Forty-Four
  55. Forty-Five
  56. Forty-Six
  57. Forty-Seven
  58. Epilogue
  59. Excerpt from The Sun and Its Shade
  60. The Night and Its Moon Playlist
  61. Acknowledgments
  62. About the Author
  63. Back Cover

Feet slapped down the hall, and Nox knew she had exactly fifteen seconds before she would be called upon. She folded her hands in her lap, straightened her back, mimicked the most sanctimonious expression she could think of. It was a day intended to honor the All Mother, after all.

The door to her dormitory flew open. The wood banged against the stone wall behind it as it swung on its hinges. Agnes had brushed her peppered hair into a familiar bun, its muted grays matching her dull linens. The matron’s temper more than made up for any subdued appearance.

“He’s early,” Matron Agnes hissed.

Nox nodded. “I’ll be right there.”

“Your hair isn’t braided?” Agnes asked.

Nox blinked with genuine surprise. “He’s early! You said it yourself. Do you want me to fix it first—”

“No.” The woman gaped in horror at the suggestion. “Get downstairs now!”

Nox turned her temper inward, fueling an ever-burning irritation. She gathered the linens of her skirt into her fingers as she ran down the stairs, joining the matron in the foyer. Agnes pulled her shoulders back and released a long, slow exhale. She painted a reverent, placating smile onto her otherwise bitter features before she opened the door.

Agnes bowed as she ushered the man into Farleigh. “Your Excellency.”

Through trial and error, Nox had learned better than to speak in the bishop’s presence. She kept her eyes on her soft leather shoes but could see the steepled press of his fingers from her peripherals.

The bishop was the only adult male Nox had ever officially met, and it had taken roughly thirty seconds upon their first encounter for her to know that she hated him. The man was impeccably dressed and appeared to be in his early fifties. He was always dressed in the whites and golds of his station. Agnes was of similar age and equally intimidating stature, but she was cunning enough to play whatever games of diplomacy were required of her.

Nox had learned more about games and how to play them from Matron Agnes than from anyone else. The Gray Matron had the sort of wicked cleverness that allowed her to see several moves ahead of her opponent at all times. Agnes acted accordingly, and Nox made an excellent student. The Gray Matron often won the game without the competition realizing they were playing at all.