The door swung open, and a line of servants entered with the grace of clockwork dolls. Julian didn't look up at first, but the shift in the room's energy forced his gaze toward the lead servant.
On a velvet-lined tray sat the Amethyst Teardrop.
The deep purple stone seemed to pulse in the dim light, and Julian's face twisted into a scowl, his brows drawing together in a sharp, defensive line.
He knew he was supposed to have the portrait today, but wasn't that until noon?
He had no idea it was already noon because he had slept so long due to the sedative. But even then, why did they bring a necklace to his room?
Did they mistake his room for the Empress's? No, it was impossible. Not with the guards outside.
"What is this?" he asked, his voice sounding like dry leaves skittering over stone. "What is that for?"
He didn't get an answer from the servants, and instead, as if on cue, the shadow of a taller figure fell across the threshold.
