“It’s not new,” I snapped. “You just never sawme.”
For the briefest moment, her expression faltered. Something flickered in her eyes, regret, maybe, but it vanished almost as quickly as it came.
She nodded once, then led me down a side corridor toward a heavy door set deep into the stone.
“I’ll take you to Cyran.”
The office hadn’t changed. Still dark wood and bookshelves, maps stretched across the walls like old battle scars. And there he was—behind his desk, hands clasped before him, with his eyes so dark they looked black.
“Ashlyn,” Cyran said, a smile ghosting his lips. “It’s good to see you.”
“Is it?” I asked, crossing my arms as Solei stepped out, leaving us alone in that cold, quiet room.
He sighed, slowly, like he’d prepared for this moment and still found it disappointing. “I made a mistake with you. That is rare for me.”
I raised a brow. “And what was that? Selling me? Or keeping me just useful enough not todie?”
His features sharpened, no longer the charming mask of the smiling strategist. Just steel now.
“You were never meant to survive the guild,” he said.
The words hit like a blade.
“The healers were to be…redistributedto more noble houses,” he continued, voice devoid of shame. “And those of lesser birth were expected to fall in the trials. Quietly. Cleanly.”
I stared at him, my throat tight.
It wasn’t betrayal anymore.
It was confirmation.
I meant nothing to him. I never did.
My fists clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms. My voice, when it came, was a low, controlled flame.
“You sold me to die.”
Cyran didn’t flinch. “Yes.”
The rage that tore through me was fast, bright, and without pause. I launched across the desk before I could think, my hands slamming into his chest, sending him stumbling back into the shelves with a dull thud. A few scrolls toppled, one bursting open as it hit the floor.
He recovered quickly, but not fast enough.
I swung. My fist connected with his jaw, satisfyingly hard, and he staggered sideways, hitting the edge of the desk.
“Yousold me!” I snarled again, advancing. “You put me in the guild like I was nothing more than meat for the grinder!Your own daughter.”
He spat blood onto the floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and still—he didn’t raise a hand to stop me.
“I didn’t think you’dmake it,Ashlyn,” he said, breathing hard. “But you did.”
“Why tell me this now?” I asked, panting, fury still shaking through my limbs. “Why not let me die thinking there was still someshredof decency in you?”
Cyran straightened, the barest trace of a smirk tugging at the corner of his bruised mouth. “Because I promised you thetruth.No more games. No more lies. You’ve earned that.”
I stared at him, every part of me still vibrating with the urge to drive my dagger straight through his ribcage.
But he wasn’t done.
