Because someone wasn’t just trying to kill me.
They were trying to frameCyran.
And ignite a war between the guild, the Order… and possibly the new sects securing themselves in the villages.
The silence after my last words created a noticeable tension.
So I cut through it.
“Are you aligned with the Crimson Sigil?” I asked, voice quiet, but razor-sharp.
Cyran didn’t flinch.
He didn’t lie.
He simply said, “Yes.”
That single word hit like a blade to the gut. Not just because it confirmed my worst fear, but because of howeasilyit left his mouth. No shame. No hesitation.
“Tell me about them,” I demanded, pulse thudding in my ears. “Tell me what they want.”
Cyran’s gaze met mine, steady and too calm. “The current court is rotted. Dripping with false titles and bloated nobility that’s never lifted a sword or bled for the people. The Crimson Sigil doesn’t want to play politics. They want topurge it all.”
“By eradicating the nobles?” I asked, heat creeping into my voice.
“And culling the fae blood,” he said simply.
I sucked in a breath.
“They believe power should not be inherited,” he went on. “It should be earned. And those born with it should be watched…controlled.”
“Are they working with the Blood Fae?” I asked. “Is that where this is going?”
His jaw tightened. Just a flicker. “It’s possible. But if they are, it’s only to use them. They’ll turn on the Blood Fae as easily as they’ve turned on the halflings. That alliance would be temporary. Tactical.”
My throat tightened. “So you want to eradicateme.The riders. My squad. Every bonded soul.”
Cyran stared at me for a long, terrible moment. “There may be room forsomeof you,” he said at last. “But not as the kingdom currently exists. Not under a royal leash.”
I stepped back, breath caught somewhere between rage and disbelief.
And yet… as my mind flicked to Theron, to the way he smiled like he already wore the crown, to the way he treated dragons as weapons and riders as pawns?—
I understood.
I didn’t agree.
But I understood.
“We still need the dragons,” I said. “Even if the court is broken. Even if everything changes.”
Cyran gave a slow, calculating nod. “Then you’d best decide which side of that change you want to be standing on.”
“There is no safety without the riders,” I snapped, the heat in my voice rising like fire catching dry timber. “Without thedragons.You know that.”
Cyran leaned forward over the old stone table, the maps and coded letters beneath his hands forgotten. His eyes were focused, shining like polished obsidian. “I do know that,” he said calmly. “But not in thecapacitythey exist now. Dragons, riders serve thecrown, not the people. That has to change.”
“So you’ll tear it all down?” I demanded. “Kill the riders who were chosen—bonded—just because the court that surrounds them is broken?”
