The other elder stepped forward, his jaw tight. “This obsession with vengeance. With usingher”—he gestured toward me dismissively—“as a pawn. It’s cruel, even for you.”
Something inside me snapped.
Before I could think, before I could stop myself, the words tumbled out of my mouth like a torrent. “How dare you question him?”
The room went deathly silent.
I stepped forward. “Lord Maren has done more for this faction than any of you could ever comprehend. You don’t get to stand here and pass judgment on him like some self-righteous fool.”
The two elders looked at me in stunned silence.
Shock coursed through me. What had I just done?
The room felt like it was spinning. My mind raced to make sense of my own actions, to rationalize the venom in my voice, but all I felt was a sickening mix of shame and pride.
I risked a glance at Izo.
He was watching me with a calm, measured expression, approval flaring in his eyes. It made my chest swell with a warmth I didn’t want to acknowledge, a twisted sense of satisfaction that only deepened the pit forming in my stomach.
The elder who had spoken first stepped back, his eyes narrowing as he glanced between Izo and me. “You’ve made your point,” he muttered, his tone bitter.
Izo took a slow, deliberate step forward. “You’ll remember your place,” he said, his voice soft but laced with menace. “And you’ll remember who commands here.”
The elders exchanged a tense look before nodding stiffly and retreating from the room.
I stood frozen, my hands trembling at my sides. The silence stretched, oppressive and heavy, until I finally found the courage to speak.
“I don’t know why I said that,” I whispered.
“You don’t need to justify yourself, Vivian,” Izo said, his tone warm and reassuring. “You defended me because you understand me. Because you see the truth.”
I wanted to believe him, to let his words erase the doubt gnawing at me. But the truth lingered, a quiet whisper I couldn’t silence.
This isn’t right. Fight it,that small voice taunted.
The thought sent a sharp pain searing through my chest. I staggered slightly, clutching at my ribs as the pain intensified.
“Vivian?” Izo’s voice was calm but tinged with curiosity.
“I’m fine,” I gasped, though the words were far from true.
The pain grew worse, spreading through my body like fire. My knees buckled, and I barely made it to the corner of the room before the nausea overwhelmed me. I gagged, the acidic taste of bile rising in my throat before I vomited onto the polished floor.
Tears stung my eyes as I clutched at my stomach, the pain ebbing slightly but leaving me shaken and weak.
Izo didn’t rush to my side. Instead, he remained where he was, watching me with an almost clinical detachment.
“Clean that up,” he said sharply to one of the guards stationed outside the door.
The guard moved quickly, stepping into the room with a cloth and bucket, his face impassive as he began scrubbing the floor.
I forced myself to sit up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. The humiliation burned almost as much as the pain, but I swallowed it down, refusing to let it show.
Izo crouched in front of me, his silver eyes boring into mine. “You’re pushing too hard,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “You’re fighting something you shouldn’t. That’s why the pain keeps happening.”
His words sent another wave of nausea rolling through me, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. “I don’t understand,” I lied.
He smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “You will,” he said softly. “With time.”
