Viktor glanced between Amerei and Issachar, their faces lined with fear. His voice dropped, rough with truth.
“We can’t do that. I alone can tread Oustinon unscathed—but I can’t take on all of them. We have to let them come to us.”
Gabriel was silent for a long moment, gaze drifting from the letter to Viktor. Finally, he looked at Amerei.
“Where will you go, my lady?”
Her answer came without hesitation.
“Fyreglade, of course.”
Gabriel’s eyes flicked back to Viktor.
“Fyreglade is too close,” he said. “Strategically, it makes no sense to keep you there.”
“But it’s a castle—”
“A castle, yes,” Gabriel cut in gently. “Not a fortress. We’d have to strip half the men from Ivan’s ledger to guard it.”
Amerei’s smile faltered, her voice catching just enough to betray her fear. “There’s nowhere for me to go in Casqadia. Anyone with the means to offer sanctuary was exiled to Xavien’s lands.”
Issachar’s knuckles whitened on his cane.
He knew.
Gabriel looked at Viktor one last time.
Amerei followed his gaze.
“No…”
She turned fully toward Viktor, her voice breaking.
“Tell me you don’t expect me to ask Xavien.”
Viktor didn’t move.
His silence was its own answer.
“Viktor,” she whispered, pain threading through his name. “Viktor?”
The muscle in his jaw flexed.
His voice came out like gravel.
“I’ve already asked him. The letter’s on its way.”
For a heartbeat, the whole room stopped breathing.
Her lips parted—betrayal caught in her throat, too sharp for sound.
Gabriel shoved back from the table.
“You should have told us.”
“I’m telling you now.”
Viktor’s hand went to his neck, gripping hard.
