Ledor shook his head. “That wasn’t my intention. The dragons are demanding a trial.”
My heart skipped.
He went on, his voice more careful now. “They claim they can prove Zander’s innocence. And technically… no charges were ever brought against you, Ashlyn.”
I exchanged a look with Zander. His expression didn’t change, but his eyes? They flared with something dangerous.
Hope. Or fury. Maybe both.
The dragons were intervening.
Which meant this war between truth and lies was far from over.
I let out a guttural sound of disbelief. “Nobody gave a damn whether Zander was innocent until the dragons intervened.” I took a step forward, the heat rising in my voice. “Did you actually think Hein would let you kill Zander, knowing he’s innocent? You risked the treaty because you want to suck up to Theron.”
Major Ledor’s jaw clenched. “I do not care which Rayne wears the crown,” he said, voice cool but firm. “I care about the dragons. And they have never intervened like this in castle politics. Not once. This is unprecedented.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Did it ever occur to you that Zander’s birth was preordained? Planned, even? That maybe we need him? That the dragons need him?”
“Why?” he asked, skeptical.
I didn’t look away. “Because the answers we need lie in the Fae Sanctuary. And Zander’s power is required to access it.”
The major went still, his eyes glancing down as if he were trying to weigh those words against everything he thought he understood. “The Fae Sanctuary…” he muttered. “That’s impossible…”
“It’s not,” I said quietly. “It’s real. And it holds the key to ending this war.”
He was silent for a long beat.
Then, slowly, he nodded. “I will guarantee your safety. Stand trial. Allow the dragons to present their proof. We need this stalemate to end. The continent is not safe without the treaty.”
I opened my mouth, but Zander’s hand settled gently on my shoulder. I glanced up into his eyes, calm despite the fire I could feel building beneath his skin.
“I believe in the dragons,” he said, voice clear and unshakable. “We’ll return tomorrow.”
He met the major’s gaze without flinching.
“Have your trial ready.”
ChapterTwenty
We spent the night in the tunnels beneath the tavern, our little pocket of safety carved out between stone walls. It was the first time in days I’d felt like I could breathe without the weight of betrayal pressing down on my ribs.
Solei and I shared stories from when we were kids. How she used to dare me to scale the gutters outside the tavern windows, how I once tried to ride a wild drake and ended up limping for a week. Zander laughed and then shared some of the antics he and his brothers had pulled off in the castle.
He told us about switching the king’s ceremonial robes with ones dyed a garish shade of pink just before a foreign delegation arrived. About how Dorian always took the blame and Theron always escaped punishment.
“He used to convince me to help,” Zander said with a rueful grin, “then disappear the moment things went wrong.”
By the time we turned in for the night, there was a quiet comfort between the three of us—worn down, maybe even a little broken, but still together.
Cyran provided a full breakfast in the morning—eggs, fire-roasted bread, and something that smelled like spiced meat. I wasn’t hungry, but I forced myself to eat.
Because it was time.
Time to go back.
Time to face the fire.
