“Yuna,” he says softly, “I need you to come with me. Quietly.”
Every muscle in my body tightens.
“No.”
“Please.” He steps closer, hands raised in surrender. “Just to the sanctum hall. The King will meet us there—”
“My father can come to me,” I snap. “Not the other way around.”
His throat moves.
“He’s ordered a… purifying ward. To protect you.”
My mark flares, bright and hot.
“To sever me.”
He winces. Doesn’t deny it. My mouth goes dry.
“You told him about the Bond.”
Silence.
“Kaelen.”
His lashes drop. The apology doesn’t come out of his mouth. It sits in the slump of his shoulders instead.
“You were the leak,” I whisper.
“Yuna,” he says, voice breaking, “you’re in danger. The uncles have moved. There are demons at court who want your head. The King—”
“The King,” I cut in, “is the man who signed an order to destroy Taeyang’s family. Don’t say his name like it’s a prayer.”
He flinches like I’ve struck him.
“I’m not choosing him.”
“You are.”
He swallows. The lanterns tremble.
“I’m choosing the realm. I swore an oath to the Crown. If the bond is severed, the war may stall. Yuna, he promised he wouldn’t hurt the demon if—”
“Don’t,” I whisper. “Don’t make it sound like mercy.”
A small door blooms out of the stone behind him, ward-light staining the path lavender. The sanctum hall. He called it with his seal. He planned this. My heart goes strange in my chest—half bird, half drum.
“You arranged the route,” I say. “You moved my guard. You sent Seori to the west gate.”
His face crumples.
“I didn’t want you to be afraid.”
“I am not afraid,” I say. “I am furious.”
“Good.” He almost smiles, ruined and earnest. “Be furious at me. Hate me. Just—survive this.”
I take a step back. He takes a step forward. Two figures step from the dark of the hall—Sentinels in mirror-bright armor. The ward between the pillars begins to spin, a pale ring tightening like a noose. My ribbon warms at my wrist, as if the promise wants to pull Taeyang to me. Nothing answers. It hits me then—the quiet in the cord between us.
