The dusty smell of old parchment clung to Belladonna as she navigated the familiar labyrinth of the Inaymi library. Her fingers, calloused from years of turning pages, traced the spines of forgotten tales, searching. The soft light of the setting sun, now a deep gold, painted the shelves in amber hues, but Belladonna’s thoughts were far from the quiet beauty.

The rumbling in her stomach was a dull counterpoint to the frantic worry in her mind. Aniya. Her sweet, innocent Aniya, soon to face the dreaded Choosing Ritual. Belladonna had a plan, a desperate, last-ditch effort to save her sister from the Dragon King's mysterious selection. It involved a wedding, her wedding, to the perfect Lytio.

She sighed, the sound echoing in the now-empty library. The thought of Lytio brought a fleeting, almost forgotten warmth to her chest. He was her escape, her sister’s salvation. Just two more days. Two more days until she was married, until Aniya was safe, until this agonizing dread could finally lift.

Leaving the library, the vibrant chaos of the night market was a stark contrast to her inner turmoil. Lanterns glowed, voices mingled, and the scent of night blooms mixed with cooking fires. But as she approached her home, a chilling silence settled. The door was ajar. A low moan, then another, drifted from within, and Belladonna’s heart began to hammer a frantic rhythm against her ribs. The faint, high-pitched cries that followed were unmistakably Aniya's, mingled with the rough grunts of a man.