His brow arched, and he nodded toward the window. “You should join Amanti in her workout. Daegel would be happy to spar with you.”
I planted my palms on the table, leaning forward. “Lesha helpedraiseme, Rydian. She’s family. I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I have to open the gates?—”
“You’re not ready.” He stood abruptly, the chair scraping against stone. “Do you have any idea what kind of magic lies inside those gates? What Heliconia has been building in the north? The magic inside the Midnight Court is enough to stop her and every Obsidian she’s ever created. Whoever opens those gates must be strong enough to receive that magic. To control it. You can’t even control what you already have.”
I held up my hands, and for a moment, I could have sworn I saw embers dancing beneath my skin. I closed my fists,forcing the sensation away. “I killed Duron. I know what I’m capable of now.”
“And do you embrace it? Or do you continue to fight it?” His voice softened, just slightly. “To push it away out of fear of what it will mean if you’re marked by the Furiosities? If the realm finds out your magic is gifted from the darkness rather than the light?”
I snorted. “The realm already knows.”
He rounded the table, stopping a careful distance away—close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him, far enough that we weren't touching. “You’re afraid of your power. I can see it in the way you hold yourself, the way you flinch every time your magic rises to the surface. Even with Duron, you held back. And that scares you.”
I wanted to deny it. The words formed on my tongue, sharp and defensive. But they would have been lies, and we’d had enough of those between us, thanks to him. I refused to add to the pile.
“So, what am I supposed to do?” The question came out smaller than I’d intended. “Let Lesha die? Let my people sleep forever while Heliconia conquers the entire realm? Let the Midnight Court remain trapped inside those walls forever?”
Rydian’s jaw worked, a muscle ticking beneath the sharp line of his cheekbone. “We’ll find another way to get her back.”
“There is no other way.”
“There’salwaysanother way.” He moved closer now, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. “You think I don’t want to save your friend? You think I don't wake up every morning, thinking about your people, about mine? About what they’ve lost? I won’t watch you burn yourself out or let Heliconia tear you apart because you rushed in before you were ready.”
The protectiveness in his voice made my chest ache. Thiswas the Rydian I’d fallen for at Grey Oak—the one who’d shown me tenderness in a world of thorns. But it was also the same protective instinct that had led him to send me away, to make decisions about my life without consulting me.
“You don’t get to decide what I’m ready for,” I said quietly. “Not anymore.”
Something flickered across his face—pain, maybe, or regret. “Aurelia?—”
“No.” I stepped back, needing distance, needing air that didn't smell like him. “I'm not asking for your permission. I’m going to get Lesha. And if you won’t help me, then I’ll find allies who will.”
His expression turned wary. “What allies? The Withered? There’s still a bounty on your head.”
He was right, and we both knew it. The Withered, Autumn fae whose magic and life force had been drained away by Duron’s mandatory donation centers, had fought for me, bled for me the night I fled Grey Oak. But they were rebels hiding in a hostile court, and I couldn’t reach them. Not without starting a war with Callan.
I turned away, my mind racing. The torchlight cast dancing shadows on the walls, and I found myself staring at the fluid shapes they made.
“Nali,” I whispered.
“What?”
I whirled. “Princess Naliadne of the river people. I met her at the party at Grey Oak.” I thought of Nali’s sea-green eyes, her enigmatic smile. I’d almost forgotten our brief exchange in the chaos of everything that had happened after. But now, the promise of an ally like her was a light in the darkness.
Rydian’s brows drew together. “The river people have remained neutral for centuries. They don’t involve themselves in court politics.”
“She was willing to offer an alliance—as long as I wasn’tallied with Autumn.” I moved to the opposite side of the table, studying his maps for myself.
We’d have to navigate the Trolech and the Broadlands to get there, but?—
“The naiad are lethal in the water, but they don’t fight on land. And they’ve likely never even faced an Obsidian.”
“Then I’ll train them.” I met his gaze across the table. “Or would you rather I hide here until Heliconia finds me?”
The door swung open before he could answer. Amanti strode in, her hair sticking to her neck, skin glistening. But she looked better today. Stronger.
She took one look at us—the tension thick enough to choke on—and raised an eyebrow. “Should I come back?”
“No,” I said, at the same time Rydian said, “We’re discussing strategy.”
