“No.” His voice was quiet but firm. “Leave them. Let’s see how far Theron’s willing to take this. He knows I’m innocent. But he’s been given… a lot of evidence.”
His voice dipped, bitter.
My chest ached as I lowered myself gently onto the bed beside him. I lay my head on his chest, careful of the places still healing, but needing the steady thrum of his heart beneath my ear.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
His bound hand shifted just enough to brush his fingers against my hair.
“So am I,” he murmured. “But this? This isn’t the end. It’s just a clue to who is behind it all.”
Our conversation died off. The fire had long since died in Zander’s chamber, but the room still held a quiet kind of warmth, one born not from flame, but from presence. I remained curled beside him, listening to his heartbeat, my thoughts churning.
“We need to talk about the Varnari,” I whispered after a while, voice barely audible in the hush.
Zander exhaled slowly. “And the Crimson Sigil.”
I nodded against his chest. “I don’t trust either of them. And I don’t think they’d be sorry to see you locked up… or worse.”
“No,” he agreed. “But this doesn’t feel like politics.”
“It feels personal.” I sat up, meeting his eyes in the moonlight. “Someone wanted you humiliated. Not just removed from power. They wanted you broken.”
Zander’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. “And they used the people closest to me to do it.”
We both knew who that meant. Inderia. Possibly the major. Maybe more.
“I’ll find out,” I told him. “We will.”
His gaze softened. “You always do.”
I pressed one last kiss to his temple, then eased off the bed and slipped back into the shadows, retracing my path through the secret corridor. The passage seemed colder now, heavier. As if the castle itself could sense the weight of the lie festering inside its walls.
I made it back to my bunk just before the sky began to lighten.
No one stirred, not yet, but I didn’t sleep.
I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, waiting. Because we all knew what would come with the dawn.
The performance.
When the first rays of sun slid through the barracks windows, the others rose silently. No laughter. No taunts. Just quiet determination.
We dressed in silence.
Ate in silence.
And walked to the Ascension Grounds with the weight of war on our shoulders.
All the other squads had already gathered. Warborn. Crownwatch. Iron Fang. Even Stormforge, tighter and tenser than usual.
The tension was brittle—like one wrong word would crack it wide open.
Then the castle doors opened.
And Theron stepped out, his armor gleaming in the morning light.
But Zander was not with him.
