Weslyn’s words begin to tremble. He blinks away the shimmer. “One of them did. And they all hate us. Every single one of them. Andyou—you dare to judge me for it when Raedyn Veyr was the one who led my brother into their trap?”
The barb lands exactly as he intended, but I don’t let him see a flicker of it. I swallow my own pain down to give him the space to air his own. “My father didn’t intend for anyone to die. He made a grave error of judgment, and it cost him his life.”
The opposite. And yet every day I’m left to pay the price for his actions.
“Not just his, though, was it?” Wet dampens Weslyn’s cheeks. He’s still just a boy. A scared, angry boy. “He took the rest of them with him because he was trying to save his own skin. He tookOwenwith him.”
“And what would Owen say if he saw you now?” It hurts to say it. “Would he be proud? I never saw him treat anyone with anything less than respect, and certainly not someone who couldn’t fight back.”
Weslyn’s face shifts, and twists. “Don’t you talk about him like you knew him.”
“I did know him, and well. We trained together, and we served together. He was myfriend.” I keep my voice steady. But I don’t stop. “And I know that he would be disappointed in this, Weslyn. This pettiness dishonors his memory. And you dishonor yourself.”
His jaw works, but he only looks away, his eyes still shining.
I clear my throat and address them both. “Go to Eldritch. He should be in the hall now. Tell him I’ve relieved you of duty and to send someone else to take over from me at midnight. And you will tell him exactly why, or I will.”
Wes’s eyes widen. “But—,”
“That is an order from a Council member, whether you like it or not. You don’t get a pass for this. Owen would have marched you there himself. Go,” I say roughly. “Now. And think about what I said.”
Weslyn’s brows push down into a deep frown before he shoves past me, his fists clenched. His friend picks up their swords before chasing after him, giving me a wide berth.
The silence stretches out long after the sound of their footsteps has disappeared.
“What happened?”
The low, lyrical words break through the cacophony in my head. “What makes you think something happened?”
When I look up, Lyra hasn’t moved. She only tilts her head. “The soldiers in the medical bay. That. And I have ears. Hard not to eavesdrop when I’m in here.”
I reach for the keys where they hang on a rusty metal hook embedded in the wall. Truthfully, we rarely need to hold someone in the cells. People seem less focused on criminality when survival is at stake.
The last person in here, as far as I can recall, was me.
And she has no idea. The thought is surprisingly freeing—that there’s at least one person left within these walls who doesn’tlook at me as though I’m dirt to be wiped away from the bottom of their shoe.
How ironic that she’s a Lightbringer.
Swinging the door open, I step inside and place the box on the table. “There’s some extra food in there. I apologize for their behavior.”
“It’s fine. I’m not hungry.” Lyra purses her lips, studying me. “Are you here to read me again?”
I turn to look at her. “You don’t sound surprised.”
“It’s what I would do. Go ahead.”
Just like that, she invites me into her mind when I’ve seen others break into a run to try and escape. “I didn’t come for that, as it happens. I came to see if you needed anything.”
Her brows crease, as if in confusion. “Why?”
Shrugging, I dig through the contents of the box, glad that I took some extra supplies from the kitchen before coming down. I duck out to retrieve the bowl and place the sliced meat pie inside it, snagging a waterskin before offering them to her.
She seems far more discomfited by the offer of food than by the idea of me flicking through her mind. “Thank you.”
“It’s not a trick.” I eye the way she cradles the bowl, not reaching for the food. “If I wanted to kill you, I have better ways than poison. You should eat.”
She doesn’t move. “Tell me why they don’t like you, first.”
