I waited until the plates were half empty before I spoke.
“I had a visitor this morning,” I said, setting my cup down.
Everyone stilled.
“A man. Dressed like a court courier, but definitely not one of Theron’s. He broke into my room and told me he came on behalf of the Crimson Sigil.”
Naia leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “Are they connected to the Blood Fae attacks or the missing supplies?”
“I don’t know. He inferred the Crimson Sigil is working with my father and I need to join them or be purged, along with the rest of you.”
Ferrula scoffed and tossed a crust of bread onto her plate. “With the Order tangled up in all of this, you can’t trust either side. They’ve both got agendas, and I doubt either of them ends with us alive.”
As we finished eating, the sound of boots echoed down the hallway.
The door opened, and the Lowborn Squad entered, their presence grounding and solid.
At their front was Teren, focused and calm. He stopped beside Remy and handed him a sealed scroll without a word.
Remy read it, lips tightening. “I must return to Warriath.”
He didn’t glance at me.
He just left.
Teren watched him go, then turned back to us.
“The Order intercepted a message between the Varnari and someone in the court,” he said, voice low. “My friends in the Order are not thrilled with their new allies.”
“What did it say?” I asked.
He looked at me then, something heavier behind his eyes.
“Sanctuaries fall faster when they were never whole to begin with.”
I swallowed hard. “They’re looking for the Fae Sanctuary.”
“Looks like everyone is,” Tae muttered, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “Which means we’re all in a race.”
Teren nodded. “He who wins rules the Continent.”
We left the small dining room together, boots scuffing over the worn stone as we made our way back to the courtyard.
The morning was cool, the sun just beginning to climb above the castle towers, casting long, dark shadows over the packed dirt.
Kaelith circled lazily in the sky overhead, her shadow sweeping across the courtyard like a living warning.
Zander stopped near the center of the open space, his voice carrying just enough for our squads to hear.
“We’ll investigate any leads in Kruisaan,” he said, his tone thick with command. “Supplies don’t vanish without help. If someone here is aiding the thieves—I want them found.”
The squads murmured their agreement, moving to prepare gear, tighten saddles, and check weapons.
Zander touched my arm lightly. A signal.
“Walk with me,” he said under his breath.
We moved away from the others, around the edge of the courtyard where the broken outline of the stables and the heavy castle wall shielded us from most prying eyes.
