"If anything happens to her—"
"It won't."
"But if it does—"
"Then I will have failed, and you can be angry at me. That's fair. I understand consequences." He meets my eyes, and there's nothing uncertain in his gaze. Just absolute confidence.
"But it won't. Your sister survived your father for twenty years. That requires skill. I respect skill. I'm going to make sure no one undoes her work."
I don't know what to say to that. It's not comfort, exactly.
It's just...
Caius.
Treating protection like a logistics problem he's already solved.
"Fine. Okay."
"Good. I've already packed." He adjusts his cloak again. "I brought six weapons. That should be enough. Seven felt excessive."
Seris stands beside the armored carriage door, dressed in proper traveling clothes now—still Discord's dark colors, but tailored to fit her properly. She looks older than she did this morning. More settled in her own skin, like she's grown into a decision that was too big for her and found out she fits it after all.
We stand there looking at each other, and I don't know how to do this. I've never had to do this before. All those years of trying to protect her, and I never once imagined a scenario where I'd have to let her walk away into danger on purpose.
"I still hate this," I tell her, because it's true and because I don't know what else to say.
She nods.
"I mean it. I hate everything about this. You're walking back into that house and I have to stand here and watch you do it, and I can't—" My voice catches. I swallow it down.
"Yeah." She steps forward and wraps her arms around me. She's shorter than I am—always has been—and she tucksher head under my chin the way she used to when we were children, back when hiding behind me actually meant something, back when I could keep her safe just by putting myself between her and whatever was coming.
I hold on to her. Probably too hard. I don't care.
"Come back in one piece."
"I'll try."
"Try harder than trying."
Her laugh is wet against my shoulder, half-choked. "I will. I promise."
We stay like that too long. Not long enough. There's no amount of time that would be enough.
She's the one who pulls back first. Her eyes are red and wet, but she's not crying—holding it together the way she's always held it together, that careful control I used to mistake for compliance. I want to tell her she doesn't have to. I want to tell her she can fall apart, just this once, just with me, and I'll catch her the way I always caught her.
But she's already turning. Already climbing into the carriage, folding herself into the dark interior. Already disappearing behind tinted glass.
Caius meets my eyes through the window. Nods once—a promise, or the closest thing to one I'm going to get.
The vehicle pulls away. The gates open to let it through, then close behind it with a sound like finality.
I stand there in the empty courtyard, shaking, watching the space where she used to be.
Great job, Io. Killed the monster. Freed the princess. And now the princess is riding off to reclaim the monster's castle while you sit in the dirt and shake like a child.
Really fucking nailed the rescue.
