Now isn’t the time. Out in these corridors isn’t the place.
Lira disappears down the passageway with the others, leaving me to make my way back toward Zeriel's quarters alone. My mind swirls with images from the day: the void drake's milky eyes, the imperial capital spread beneath us, the emperor drawing… power.
I've gone barely twenty feet when a towering figure rounds the corner ahead, nearly colliding with me. Zeriel blocks the passageway, looming above me with shoulders squared and jaw set in a way I recognize instantly: trouble.
The shock of nearly colliding with him makes me stumble to a halt, my outstretched hand brushing against the rough stone of the corridor wall for balance. For a beat, neither of us moves. In that silence, I glimpse something untamed flickering inhis eyes, like a storm barely chained, sharp and feral in its intensity. He’s dressed in stripped-down fatigues, sleeves rolled to the elbow, a fresh white bandage slashing across his knuckles. Whatever he’s just come from, it certainly wasn’t a rest cycle.
His intense gaze sweeps over me, a quick, assessing inventory that lingers on my flushed cheeks and perhaps the faint, bitter tang of dragon in my hair. “You’re late,” he says, more accusation than observation. For a moment, I can’t tell if he’s about to shove me against the wall or just stare until I vanish.
I take a step back, spine stiffening. “If you’ve got a problem,Champion, talk to Selen.”
“Come with me.”
I expect him to head toward his quarters—the direction I’d been going—but instead, he turns on his heel and starts back toward Selen’s office.
What…
His mood grates, but as I match his stride, after what I’ve witnessed today I can't help but study him with new eyes. Zeriel. The descendent of a winged court. What magic lies beneath his surface?
His gaze is fixed ahead as if he's mentally a thousand miles away. Though I'm barely present myself, my thoughts still trapped in that imperial garden, watching living things apparently wither at Emperor Sylthan’s touch.
We come to an abrupt stop outside Selen's office. Zeriel knocks sharply on the door.
“Enter,” Selen calls from within.
When we step inside, no trace remains of our outing. No suits, no rope, no evidence that just hours ago we stood atop the imperial palace.
Selen glances up from her desk, one eyebrow arching as she takes in Zeriel's rigid posture and my probably still-dazed expression.
“Champion Caelith,” she says, setting down her quill. “Towhat do I owe the pleasure of a second visit today? I've barely had time to miss you.”
Zeriel skips pleasantries. “The welcome ceremony for the provincial champions has been set for tonight. Imperial palace. Eleven sharp. As you’re aware, wards are expected to attend alongside their champions.”
For a moment, I don’t understand what he’s saying. The words land, but they don’t register—until they do.
My breath catches. “Wait,what?”
At the palace?
I stare at him like he’s grown a second head.
Zeriel doesn’t even glance my way. He continues to address Selen, “We have barely three hours to prepare, and she needs appropriate attire.”
Oh, ofcoursehe wouldn't bother to tell me directly. Of course I'd find out only when he needs something from someone else.
And Zeriel is going to come face to face with Blaise again so soon? That’s a recipe for flames and screaming.
Selen leans back in her chair, arms folded across her chest, a bemused expression playing across her features. “And why exactly do you think I would just have a gown in my closet suitable for an imperial ball?”
Zeriel exhales slowly through his nose, like he’s reining something in. “Because you're resourceful. And connected.”
“Flattered as I am by your assessment of my wardrobe,” Selen says, rising from her chair, “I'm a handler, not a royal seamstress.”
“There must be something,” Zeriel insists. “We can't show up with her in recruit's garb.”
Selen huffs, then walks to the discreet door leading to her quarters. “Wait here,” she says, disappearing through it.
Left alone with Zeriel, I turn on him. “Were you planning to tell me about this at all? Or just drag me there without warning?”
