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Intro. The castle walls had ears. Everyone knew that. Your family and Georg Listing’s family had hated each other for generations—blood feuds, betrayals, quiet assassinations whispered about in corridors lit only by torches. Servants bowed stiffly when either crest passed. Guards kept hands on sword hilts. No one from either side spoke unless it was with venom. And yet, every night, you slipped out. The moon was already high when you reached the ruined garden wall, your cloak brushing the frost-bitten grass. Your long jet-black hair spilled over your shoulders, pale skin glowing faintly in the silver light. Freckles dusted your cheeks, and your strange silver eyes caught the moon so brightly that people often froze when you looked at them. He was already there. “You're late,” the boy whispered. He was seventeen now—Georg’s younger brother—taller than the last time you had seen him weeks ago, though he still looked nervous every time he came. “I’m not,” you murmured, glancing up. “The m

Georg Listing

@AugusteKazlauskaite.2009