They would not face it alone.
Not by a long shot.
The hearing ended on a breath the entire room seemed relieved to exhale. Councilors scattered like startled quail the moment the Sentinel dismissed them, each muttering frantically about archives and sealed scrolls and “reevaluating threat classifications.”
When the last robe vanished through the side doors, the Sentinel turned to Poppy, Mingxi, and Lysandra. “You handled yourselves well,” he said, voice steady once more. “Better than most warriors I’ve seen in these halls.”
Poppy let out a long, shaking breath since the tension had eased. “I didn’t come here to fight the Court.”
“You didn’t,” he replied. “You stood your ground. There’s a difference.”
Lysandra stretched her back like she’d just finished a moderately unpleasant yoga session. “Well, I came here to fight the Court, and frankly, I’m disappointed no one threw anything at us.”
The Sentinel looked at her, and he didn’t seem irritated, just… resigned—a man who had once commanded armies, realizing that no battlefield prepared him for Lysandra Sinclair.
“You will be returning to Huoyáo Jìng immediately,” he said. It wasn’t a suggestion. “The Court has no further claim on you. If they require information, they will go through me.”
Poppy blinked. “That’s… generous.”
“It’s logical,” he corrected. “You’re safer there. And your sister’s visions are of more use interpreted in a controlled environment, not interrogated by frightened bureaucrats.”
Lysandra nodded vigorously. “Exactly. I need snacks, privacy, and at least six hours of sleep before the next apocalypse.”
The Sentinel didn’t crack a smile, but his eyes warmed a fraction.
Poppy sensed an uncomplicated, comradely respect.
“Travel safely,” he said. “And if the Court sends summons again without my authorization—”
Mingxi finished dryly, “You’ll handle it.”
“I will,” the Sentinel replied.
There was no fanfare. No lingering looks. No threads connecting him to Lysandra. Only an alliance built on mutual recognition of competence—and Mingxi’s history at his side.
The moment the doors closed behind him, Lysandra exhaled loudly. “Well,” she said, “that went better than expected and worse than hoped.”
Poppy rubbed her hands over her face. “I’m exhausted.”
Mingxi slipped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her gently toward the exit. “Then let’s go home.”
They made their way back through the austere halls, guards bowing as they passed—not out of fear, but respect. Poppy held Lysandra’s hand the entire way, not letting go once.
Outside, the air was cool and bright with the dawn’s light, and the carriage waited.
Lysandra climbed in first, declaring, “Dibs on lying dramatically across the seat.”
“No,” Poppy said.
Lysandra flopped down dramatically anyway.
Mingxi helped Poppy up, settling beside her as the carriage eased into motion. His hand found hers without thought.
“You were extraordinary,” he said quietly.
“I was angry.”
“You were right,” he corrected. “And that’s rarer in these halls.”
