When I had arrived home and learned of this terrible series of events, I had immediately set out for the Hawk's Keep. I had started that ride in a fog of denial, refusing to acknowledge that my brother was dead, refusing to believe that the burden of the roal seat had fallen to me so suddenly at the age of sixteen. The hours had turned my thoughts from disbelief to mad fury. I had scaled the walls of the Hawk's Keep, intent on murder, and stumbled into the room of Danica Shardae. And there, I think I fell in love. As I beheld the avian princess sleeping so innocently, her cheek marked by a new cut--probably by one of my own people's blades--my hatred died, leaving only a desperate desire for peace in its wake. When the mad suggestion was made last winter that taking the enemy queen as my mate could end the war, it had almost seemed like fate. It had not been easy to bridge the gaps between us, but together we had managed. Fate had given me many gifts. Danica Shardae was the one for which I would forever be most grateful.