With this distraction, Ren dispatches the fourth assassin with a blade to the gut, her black leather and pale face splattered with blood as his body collapses to the ground.
The garden falls into shocked silence.
The crowd surges backward, away from Lucien, away from the bodies scattered across the pristine white marble. Fear ripples through the assembled delegates like a contagion.
Lucien’s eyes return to normal as he surveys the chaos.
“Four assassins,” Lord Castor says, breathing heavily as he props his war hammer on his shoulder. Blood drips from the weapon’s head. “Coordinated attack. They knew exactly where you’d be.”
“Are you hurt?” Ren demands, dropping to her knees beside me before I can even process what just happened.
“I—I don’t think so.” My voice comes out shaky.
Her hands move over me, checking for injuries, but there’s something different in her touch now – less professional, more personal.
“I should have spotted them sooner. Should have positioned myself better.” She says through gritted teeth.
“You saved my life.” I catch her hand, stilling her anxious movements. “Ren...”
Our eyes meet, and for a heartbeat, we savour the touch of our hands together, safe and warm.
Zevran appears on my other side, water dripping from his hair and clothes. His grey eyes are fierce as they scan my face, my body for any sign of injuries. Lord Castor wipes blood from his war hammer with someone’s abandoned napkin.
Suddenly, Lucien is standing over us with an intensity that makes the air feel heavier. He glances at Ren, then at Lord Castor, then at Zevran. “Impressive work. All of you.”
Ren’s other hand tightens protectively on my arm. Zevran shifts slightly, positioning himself between Lucien and me. Lord Castor just grips his war hammer tighter, watching with calculating eyes.
“Lord Lucien of Pluto!”
Cardinal Benedict strides through the crowd, flanked by armed guards. His expression is thunderous.
“You have used forbidden magic in front of hundreds of witnesses. Magic that carries the death penalty under system law.” Cardinal Benedict’s voice rings out across the garden. “You will surrender yourself to Cardinal custody immediately.”
Guards begin to move forward, forming a loose circle around us.
Lucien doesn’t move. His gaze shifts from Cardinal Benedict to the approaching guards, then back to me.
“I did what anyone would do if they saw someone in danger,” he says calmly.
“That does not exempt you from the law.” Cardinal Benedict gestures to the guards. “Seize him.”
The guards take a step forward.
Lucien looks at me one last time. His lips curve into the faintest smile – sad, knowing.
Then the shadows explode outward.
Darkness pours from every corner of the garden, from under tables and behind trees, coalescing around Lucien in a swirling vortex. The guards stumble backward, shielding their eyes. Several guests scream.
When the shadows disperse, Lucien is gone.
The garden erupts into chaos. Guards shouting, nobles demanding explanations, the Cardinals barking orders. All I can do is stare at the empty space where he stood, my heart pounding.
“Search the arena!” Cardinal Benedict commands. “Every corridor, every chamber.”
The guards scatter, but I can see the fear in their eyes. They don’t want to find him.
Zevran and Lord Castor help Ren get me to my feet. The golden gown is torn and bloodstained – some of it mine, some of it not.
