I reached for Kaelith again, trying to find her mind, even just a spark of presence.
But there was nothing.
Not anger. Not rejection.
Just… silence.
I understand,I thought.I just wish I didn’t have to do this without you.
We left the tunnels through the back corridor, emerging into the tavern above. It was practically empty, only a few early patrons nursing drinks at the bar.
No one looked twice as we passed.
The sun had barely risen when we reached the city streets, the light gray and soft, like the calm before the storm.
Our boots echoed against cobblestone, and I pulled my cloak tighter around me as the castle gates came into view.
The guards at the entrance saw us approach. One of them stiffened, then stepped aside without a word.
They knew.
They’d been told to let us through.
And as we crossed the threshold into the castle grounds, the Ascension Grounds came into view?—
Packed.
Every rider.
Every major.
Every dragonless prospect standing shoulder-to-shoulder.
Waiting for the trial that could burn the world down… or save it.
Theron stood tall in full ceremonial regalia, the deep-blue of his formal cloak trimmed with gold, the Rayne sigil glinting like it had something to prove. His hands rested behind his back, chin tilted in a show of superiority, but it was Inderia who drew my gaze.
She stood just behind him, draped in silver and crimson, the gown clearly meant to present her as a queen-in-waiting. But it wasn’t her beauty that caught my attention; it was her expression. Not smug. Not victorious. If anything, she looked… hollow. Her lips were tight, her eyes glazed as though she’d been trapped in a decision she couldn’t take back.
Was she part of this? Or just a pawn in a much larger game?
We stopped at the edge of the Ascension Grounds as Theron raised his hand, and the crowd quieted instantly. The sunlight fell cold over the wide clearing as he stepped up to the central podium.
“I hereby call this trial to order,” Theron said, his voice ringing out like steel over stone. “The accused, Zander Rayne, stands charged with treason against the Crown of Warriath, conspiracy with foreign powers—including the Crimson Sigil and the Blood Fae—and attempted regicide against King Emlem Rayne, our father.”
Gasps echoed through the crowd, and I could see some of the younger cadets glance uneasily at one another. The words sounded damning, especially from a prince regent.
But before Theron could speak again, Major Ledor stepped forward.
“I object,” he said, voice sharp and clear.
Every head turned.
“I would like to submit a formal change in counsel for the accused.”
Theron narrowed his eyes. “You are not in a position to?—”
“Prince Dorian will represent Zander.”
