Chapters (64)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- Pronunciation Guide
- Prologue
- Part One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Part Two
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Part Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Part Four
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Epilogue
- Excerpt from The Sun and Its Shade
- The Night and Its Moon Playlist
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- 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.