And this fight wasn’t just about healing anymore.
Theron’s gaze settled on me like I was something sticky he’d stepped in. “This is a family matter. She shouldn’t be here.”
The words hung in the air, thick and final.
Zander’s head snapped up, his expression twisting in something between fury and heartbreak. His eyes met mine. Devastated. Torn. He didn’t say a word, but I felt it. Every protest he wanted to scream. Every moment of defiance, he swallowed back in the name of his father, who lay gasping for breath a few feet away.
I swallowed the tightness in my throat and forced a small nod.
“It’s okay,” I said softly, and my voice didn’t tremble even though my heart did. “Meri and I will head back. I’m exhausted anyway. You should stay with your father.”
Theron’s lip twitched in something like victory, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a glare. I just turned and walked out with my chin high, letting him believe he’d gotten what he wanted.
Meri fell into step beside me, her healer’s robes rustling as we moved down the quiet hall.
“You’ve got some balls,” she muttered once we turned the corner. “Standing up to Theron like that.”
I smirked. “You’re one to talk. I thought his face might pop off when you mentioned spell rot.”
She grunted. “I’ll likely be transferred to an outer kingdom by morning.”
I winked at her. “Not if Zander has anything to say about it.”
She gave me a side glance. “You’re not actually going to rest, are you?”
“No,” I admitted. “I need to meet with Cyran.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Your father?”
“Yes,” I said, voice tight. “But don’t tell Zander. He’ll be pissed.”
“Why?”
“Because my father may have just tried to have me assassinated.”
Chapter
Twenty-Two
The shadows around the outer gate of the castle were long and heavy by the time I slipped through the old stone passage, cloak drawn tight and hood low. Gerane had been discreet, as always. He knew how to arrange things quietly, even when danger lurked behind every breath.
Solei was waiting at the edge of the gate, her silhouette tall, lean, and deadly in the moonlight, a blade strapped across her back like an extension of her spine. She said nothing as I approached.
I stopped a few paces from her. “Thank you for meeting me.”
“I’ll always meet you,” she said, voice low but laced with iron. Then her eyes narrowed. “You have safe passage. For tonight.”
I nodded, falling into step beside her as we started down the worn path that snaked into the lower quarter, lantern light flickering from the occasional post along the way.
After a long silence, she finally asked, “Why now? Why call for me?”
“There was an assassination attempt,” I said quietly.
Solei stopped walking.
“What?”
“Earlier,” I added, keeping my voice firm. “In my barracks. His blade barely missed my throat.”
