I pause at the top of the grand staircase, the hem of my emerald-green gown brushing the marble beneath my feet. Every eye in the room turns toward me—some curious, some envious, some outright fearful.

My father, Cornelius Fudge, beams up at me from the crowd, his hands clasped together like a proud peacock displaying his finest feather. He thinks tonight is about him, about his position.

He's wrong.

A low rumble vibrates through the chandeliers, and several guests flinch. From the enchanted ceiling, a shadow passes—immense, leathery, and unmistakable. My shadow. Above the ballroom, in the private terrace I've claimed as my own, my dragons circle the night sky, waiting.

I let my lips curl into a slow smile as I take the first step down.