Navola is a city built on trade. Its palazzos and towers are conjured from its merchant
wealth: barley and rice flax and wool iron and silver arms armies lives and kingdoms are
all traded here. And presiding over it all the Regulai bank. By guile force of arms and the
cast-iron might of their money and promises in just three generations the Regulai family have
risen far from their humble origins: merchants beg their backing artists their patronage
princes an invitation to dine at their table. The di Regulai say they are not political but
their wealth buys cities and topples kingdoms. Soon Davico di Regulai will be expected to
take the reins of power. But the boy is not well-suited for his role. His heart is soft where
it should be hard. He is credulous when he should be suspicious. He is tired of being tested
and trained to inherit a legacy he is not sure he wants. But Davico is inextricably tangled
in fate's net and his doubts can only summon ruin. In the shade of Navola's colonnaded
porticoes his family's enemies gather and plot. In the shadows of its deep catacombs
assassins sharpen their stiletto knives. In the kingdoms of Cerulean Peninsula princes and
despots muster their armies. Davico's only hope rests in the heart of a girl whose own family
was destroyed by the di Regulai and in a crystalline orb the size of a human head said to be
the eye of a long-dead dragon.
