We didn’t slow, didn’t glance back, just made our way across the grounds that led to our barracks.
Dinner was a blur of hard bread, tough meat, and the kind of easy, silent company that only a battlefield or a bond could forge.
Afterward, I retreated into the washroom with my issued formal riding uniform tucked under my arm.
The leather was a shiny black, stitched with threads of silver so fine they caught the light with every movement. The tunic was fitted to my body like a second skin, laced along the sides, thesleeves snug at the wrists. The breeches matched, tailored sharp enough to slice the air. Heavy boots laced to my knees finished the look.
There was no armor, no plates to deflect a blade. This wasn’t for protection. It was for spectacle. A rider to be seen, not shielded.
When I stepped out, toweling the last traces of moisture from my hair, the squad went quiet.
“Shit, Ashe,” Naia whistled low between her teeth, grinning. “You look like you’re about to conquer the godsdamned kingdom.”
“You sure you’re not planning to start a rebellion tonight?” Tae added, tossing an apple core into the hearth.
Ferrula raised a brow in approval, arms crossed over her chest. “If the Varnari don’t notice you, they’re blind.”
Cordelle just nodded once, the corner of his mouth tugging up. A rare, silent compliment.
I left my hair down on purpose, the pale strands falling past my shoulders like a banner. A calculated move.
If the Varnari were looking to forge an alliance, they needed to see me. If they were looking to assassinate me, well... we needed answers either way. Contact was inevitable. Better they target the person who was ready for it.
A knock sounded at the door, sharp and sure.
Jax crossed the room in two long strides and pulled it open.
Zander stood there, dressed in his own formal uniform, cut in deep-black and silver, a sword belted at his hip more for ceremony than need.
His eyes found me instantly.
They roamed over me once—slow, measured, burning.
A muscle ticked in his jaw.
“Are you ready?”
I nodded silently and followed him from the barracks without a word, though Kaelith’s consciousness hummed at the edge of my mind like a pulse I could just barely feel.
The night air was cool against my skin, and the sound of our boots echoed softly on the cobblestones as we crossed the courtyard and entered the castle’s arched gates.
We walked in silence. The kind of silence that filled your lungs like smoke, thick, choking, impossible to ignore.
He glanced at my hair for the third time, his gaze lingering on the white strands that cascaded in silver waves down my back.
“I should warn you,” Zander said finally, his voice low, almost reluctant, “your attendance tonight will cause a stir. And not in a good way.”
“I didn’t expect it to,” I said, staring straight ahead as the towering ornate doors loomed in front of us. “But I’m not here to make friends.”
He went quiet again, the muscle in his jaw twitching once.
The castle swallowed us whole as we entered, high ceilings soaring above, arches dripping with golden vines and polished black stone. The scent of spiced wine and roasting meats filled the air, thick enough to taste.
And then we entered the banquet hall.
The light from a hundred chandeliers dripped like molten gold from the ceiling, scattering diamonds across the marble floors. Silk banners bearing the royal crest hung from the balconies, swaying slightly with every shift in the air. The tables gleamed, long and heavy, set with crystal goblets and plates edged in silver.
Nobles filled the room like a sea of glittering sharks, their voices a constant hum of carefully polished lies and veiled insults.
