Set in the world of my novel, The House of Shattered Wings, about sixty years before the novel starts. Featuring two servants from the House of Aiguillon–one of three Houses to fall during the Great War… And bonus cameo from Asmodeus!

In the end, as she had known she would, Huyen crept back to the House of Aiguillon.
Dawn was barely breaking over Paris: a sick, vague pink tinge to the maelstrom of spells that filled the entire sky like roiling clouds. No sun, no stars; merely the acrid taste of spent magic that settled in the lungs like the beginnings of a cough, and a haze over the cobblestones that could hide anything from explosives to chimeras.
The great gates hung open. Through the haze, Huyen caught a glimpse of bodies, lying like discarded puppets in the gardens; and of what had once been the corridors, now open to the winds, with the familiar peony wallpaper singed and torn–Huyen remembered running with one hand following the flowers, drawing a line through the corridor as a way to find her way back to the kitchens–another time, another age. The House had succumbed, and nothing would ever be the same.