To my Elara on her eighteenth birthday,
In this book, may you find the quiet space where your thoughts take wing. Let your words be wild and gentle, soul stirring and true. The world will ask you to speak with poise and command—but here, you may speak with your heart.
I have filled these first pages with verses I love, so that you may know the rhythm of Alendria’s soul. But the rest is yours. Write what you see. Write what you feel. Write what no one else dares to name.
You are my daughter, in accord with the spheres.
—Your father,
Theodor of House Landon