"The other lords won't like the expense."
"The other lords can contribute their own resources or volunteer their own time to help manage the crisis," I reply sharply. "Anyone who complains about the cost of humanitarian aid is welcome to explain their position to the refugees personally."
Emir nods, but I can see the question in his eyes. The same question that's been lurking in my own mind since I first decided to intervene tonight.
When did the notorious Shadow Lord become someone who prioritizes mercy over pragmatism? When did I start making decisions based on what's right rather than what's strategically advantageous?
The answer is uncomfortable in its simplicity: four months ago. When I chose to save Nesilhan's life instead of our child's. When I discovered that some things matter more than power or control or even victory.
When I learned that love—even broken, one-sided love—changes everything about who you are and what you're capable of becoming.
The realization should terrify me. Instead, it just makes me tired.
"Come on," I tell Emir, turning away from the now-peaceful square. "Let's get some rest before the next crisis hits. Something tells me this was just the beginning of our humanitarian responsibilities."
As we walk back toward the palace, I catch myself glancing up at those dark windows one more time. Wondering if she's watching. Wondering if tonight changed anything. Wondering if mercy can ever be enough to balance the scales against the choices that broke us in the first place.
Probably not. But for the first time in months, I have something that feels almost like hope.
CHAPTER 15
THE DREAM WALKER
Nesilhan
I jolt awake,gasping for air as I claw my way out of the nightmare. Shadows cling to me, phantom sensations of drowning in suffocating darkness. My heart races beneath my palm as I press a shaking hand to my chest, forcing myself to take deep, slow breaths.
The dream crashes over me, vivid as a memory. Shadows filling my lungs. A woman wreathed in moonlight - Lysandra, a Dream Walker from the Forgotten Grove. Banu, trapped and suffering in a realm between worlds called the Veil Between. An impossible prison of shadow and illusion that can only be breached during the Twilight Eclipse, now a mere three weeks away.
"Three weeks," I whisper, tasting dread on my tongue and I need an anchor, someone I trust.
It seems an impossible task, but resolve hardens in my chest. Dream or not, I cannot ignore this dire warning. I will not abandon Banu to such a fate.
Three weeks to find someone I absolutely trust.
The bitter laugh that escapes me sounds hollow in the empty room. Trust. Kaan, who I understand made an impossible choice but still can't fully open my heart to? Yasar, whose binding wraps tighter around my soul every day? Zoran, my brother who betrayed me once already? Elçin, my cousin who's proven her loyalty but whom I've only known for months, not years?
I'm surrounded by people, and I'm utterly alone.
My light magic flickers beneath my skin, responding to emotional turmoil. It sparks and dies like a dying flame, and I realize that I haven't used it properly in weeks. Ever since Yasar arrived, ever since the binding activated, my power feels... muted. Drained. As if something siphons it away faster than I can replenish it.
I press my palm flat against my abdomen, feeling the scars beneath my nightgown. The physical marks of what I lost. What we all lost when the shapeshifter's blade tore through flesh and possibility.
I rise from bed, pulling on a silk robe against the morning chill. My chambers overlook the eastern gardens, where dawn is just beginning to paint the sky in shades of violet and rose. It should be beautiful. Instead, it reminds me of Yasar's eyes.
"You're awake early."
I spin, light magic flaring defensively before I recognize the voice. Elçin stands in my doorway, already dressed for training in leather and steel. Her storm-grey eyes take in my disheveled state with the practiced assessment of someone who's seen too much.
"Couldn't sleep," I manage, forcing my magic to settle. "Nightmares."
"About?" She steps inside, closing the door with careful quiet.
I consider lying. But Elçin has earned my trust in the months since she found me in that village, memory-less and broken.She's seen me piece myself back together after the loss—the grief, the rage, the nights I couldn't sleep.
"Banu's alive," I say. "Trapped somewhere called the Veil Between. There's a Dream Walker who can help me reach her, but..." I trail off, because how do I explain the impossible requirements? The trust I can't give?
Elçin's expression doesn't change, but something flickers in her eyes. Recognition, maybe. Or concern. "The Veil Between is dangerous, cousin. Even in stories."
