That made her pause.
Solei leaned back, eyes flicking to the ceiling like the stone would whisper answers. “Warders protect the city. Not kings. Not houses. Not banners. The city. And we’re losing them at an alarming rate.”
I heard the weight in her voice. That fear, she rarely let anyone see.
She shifted again, voice quieter now. “Healers have always been off-limits. They treat everyone… Order members, guild riders, even commoners if needed.”
“And?”
Solei met my gaze squarely, no hesitation in her next words. “All Orders have the same mandate when it comes to healers and warders.”
She said it like a vow, like it had been branded into her bones.
“We don’t touch them.”
I let the silence settle, heavy between us. Because even for someone like Solei, someone forged in shadows and sharpened by knives, that line mattered.
And right now, someone out there was breaking it.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Did you interrogate him?”
Solei gave me a look that could peel paint. “Of course I did. He was working for the Varnari.”
I leaned in, my gut twisting. “Did he say who sent him?”
Her mouth tugged into something between a grimace and a smirk. “Not exactly. But when he was close to death, he admitted there’s a temporary truce between the Crimson Sigil and the Varnari.”
My blood ran cold.
“How can that be?” I demanded. “The Varnari want magic and the crown in their hands,and the Crimson Sigil wants it eradicated for the most part.They’re opposites.”
“I’m aware,” she said flatly. “But the amnesty is only temporary. They’re using it to take out their mutual threat.”
“Us,” I said, my voice a growl.
“To remove the riders,” Solei confirmed. “Every last one of you. Once you’re gone, they’ll deal with each other.”
I grunted and sat back. “Of course. Take out the ones who stand between them and whatever future they want.”
She leaned forward, her eyes sharper now, cutting through shadow like blades. “But here’s the part that should really worry you.”
I met her gaze.
“That kind of organization? The kind that can fund both rebel factions, coordinate attacks, eliminate warders and healers without notice?”
She paused, her voice lowering to a whisper.
“That can only come from the castle.”
Zander’s jaw clenched, the shadows in the room seeming to stretch and hold around him.
“It has to be Theron,” he said, voice cold. “He’s power-hungry, manipulative. He’s already tried to turn the guilds against me, accused me of treason—he’s behind this.”
Solei shook her head slowly, the motion deliberate. “I agree he’s a right bastard,” she said, voice as dry as dust, “but Theron isn’t smart enough to do this alone.”
Zander narrowed his eyes. “You think he has help?”
She leaned forward, flexing her bandaged fingers. “There are alliances forming between houses that Theron has never spoken to. Too many moving parts. Too many perfectly timed strikes. This…” She waved a hand, motioning to everything—the assassins, the false accusations, the secret factions. “This is someone who knows exactly how the castle operates. Someone with real reach.”
