Kormak studies me, weighing the words. “Are you certain she didn’t head out on some errand?”
I shake my head. “She wouldn’t without letting someone know. And not for so long. We’ve just become—” I stop for half a second, making sure my next words land. “She’s my betrothed. And I am honored beyond measure that she’s to be my queen. But none of that will happen if she’s dead.”
Kormak’s jaw tightens, the briefest crack in his composure. Concern, yes, but edged with something sharper.
“I think the tsar has her,” I continue. “Even if it was Torbin who took her, he’d have taken her straight to the Shadow Tsar.”
The name alone makes Kormak flinch, his gaze darkening as if shadows from another place have reached for him.
Isaac exchanges a look with Giorgi and mutters a curse under his breath.
Aila crosses her arms, her expression tight. “Last time you came tous with something that sounded far-fetched, you turned out to be right. About Torbin. About the pit.”
Mylo nods once, decisive. “If you say she’s in danger, then we believe you. What do you need from us?”
“As many soldiers as the general can spare,” I say without hesitation. “You. All of you. I want the entire squad. And anyone else willing to ride to Dulcamar with me. If you’re willing.”
Kormak’s jaw flexes.
“You’re fucking right, we’re willing,” Isaac says. “There is no Delasurvia without Celeste. It’s our duty to rescue our queen.”
“But there’s more,” I add, my voice hardening. “King Silas believes Celeste has broken our agreement. He told me that if she leaves Hedera, he will take Delasurvia by force. Which means if I’m right, and she’s been abducted, he’ll use her absence as an excuse to invade.”
The squad exchanges grim looks. Mylo’s jaw tightens, and Aila’s brows draw together in a deep frown.
“You told him she might have been taken?” Mylo asks.
“I did,” I say, bitter heat rising in my chest. “He won’t hear it. He’s convinced she acted against him, and nothing I say will change his mind.”
Aila shakes her head sharply. “So we’re fighting on two fronts—rescuing her and holding the king back from seizing her kingdom.”
“Exactly.” My gaze sweeps across them. “If we march into Dulcamar, the soldiers who stay behind will need to be ready to defend the castle, the Garrison—everything. Silas will see an opportunity and take it.”
Lorne’s voice is low but steady. “Then we make sure he doesn’t get the chance.”
Kormak nods once, the steel in his eyes matching my own. “I’ll ready the soldiers. Some will march with us into Dulcamar. The rest will remain here to defend the capital if the king makes his move.”
“I’ll get the supplies,” Giorgi shouts before scrambling off.
Kormak steps closer, his voice lowering so it’s for me alone. “Are you sure about this?”
I meet his gaze without hesitation. “Iheardher,” I say, the wordsrough in my throat.
It’s faint—always faint—as though she were calling my name from the far end of a long, dark hall. Sometimes I almost think I’ve imagined it, that I’m chasing shadows in my own head. But it’s there. And I can feel her. It’s weak but so real. That tug. That thread that winds through my chest and pulls, ever so slightly, toward her.
Her voice is never clear. Never steady. Not like it was during the trials. And it kills me because if it’s unclear, that means she’s far. Farther than I can reach.
But distance doesn’t matter. I would follow that pull to the ends of Terre Ferique, to the edge of the world, if it meant finding her. I’d ride until my body broke, search until my last breath, if that’s what it takes to see her safe again.
“She’s calling to me,” I tell him. “She’s in danger.”
Something shifts in his expression—part recognition, part something darker. He studies me for a long moment before speaking.
“I know what it’s like to be taken,” he says quietly. “I know what waits on the other side of that darkness.” His jaw hardens, his voice like tempered steel. “And I won’t let what happened to me happen to her.”
I nod and clap him on the back.
Relief cuts through me, but it’s edged in fire.
