He has shed his formal jacket; his shirt sleeves are rolled, his collar loosened. The Assembly has left a grey smear of exhaustion beneath his eyes.
He looks as though he has been fighting the world—and winning by stubbornness alone.
“Traitor,” he tells Snack Thief mildly. “You always choose the best shoulder.”
Arthur fluffs up, utterly unrepentant.
Lander crosses to the bench and pauses at a polite distance. “May I?”
I nod.
He sits—not too close, not too far—just near enough that his warmth reaches me, and my treacherous body leans the tiniest fraction his way.
For a moment, we simply breathe.
The sky lightens by degrees, colour seeping into the world as if someone is gently painting it back in.
“That went… better than it could have,” he says at last.
“I am not in a basement cell next door to Meredith,” I agree. “So yes. Marginally better.”
He huffs a laugh, then sobers. “How are you holding up?”
“Tired. Overwhelmed. Mildly murderous.” I hesitate, then add, quieter, “Grateful.”
His brows lift. “Grateful?”
“For them.” I nod back towards Unity Hall. “For Lark. For Fred. For Hatty and Beryl. I would never have asked them to come. I still might have ended up executed, but at least I would not have inconvenienced anyone.”
His mouth does that little twist that means he is torn between amusement and exasperation. “Harper.”
“I mean it,” I insist. “They risked a lot by standing up for me in front of everyone. They did that becauseyoutold them I needed help.”
He looks away, down the steps, as if the paving slabs have become fascinating. “I might have… mentioned a few things,” he says lightly. “Strictly off the record.”
“A little bird told them,” I echo Fred’s words. “You were the little bird.”
“I just made a few calls.”
Warmth prickles behind my eyes. I reach up to stroke the raven again so I do not have to look at Lander directly.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “For bringing my family when I was too foolish—and too proud—to ask. For protecting them. For protecting me.”
His gaze snaps back to my face. “You’re not foolish,” he says. “You were scared and trying to handle everything alone. You’ve been doing that for a very long time.” His jaw works. “I didn’t want you to do it this time.”
“I—I told them I lied to your team, threw your cover story under the carriage.” I wince as the words land between us, heavy and ugly.
“I heard.” His gaze tips to me, sharp and assessing. “You didn’t have to.”
“Yes, I did.” I look down at my hands again, because it is easier than holding his eyes. “I will not stand by while other people pay for my choices. I did what I thought was right. My mistake was, once again, not speaking to you first.”
He is silent for a beat.
“Before you were summoned,” he says softly, “half the council, a few vampires, and one of the human ministers wanted to confine you to the Magic Sector indefinitely. Someone else wanted you declared an asset of the Ministry.” His lip curls slightly at the word.
“Knox and I reminded them you have full immunity under the treaty.” His tone goes flat and dangerous. “I also reminded them that if they tried to reinterpret that at your expense, they could find another hunter to clean up their messes. I’m not interested in serving people who break their own laws.”
My chest tightens. “You would walk away. For me.”
