“…Ah,” he said. “That kind of gathering.”
Kastor’s gaze flicked to Fenix, quick and assessing. The faintest crease appeared between his brows before smoothing away, annoyance contained but unmistakable.
“Commander Drae,” he said. Polite. Cool. The title carried weight however, not warmth.
Fenix straightened a fraction, grin dimming as he took in the room again, the map, the stillness. He didn’t speak this time.
Kastor adjusted his cuffs, a small but deliberate movement, as if settling himself back into order.
“This looks like it no longer needs my presence,” he said. “I’ll see to the rest.”
His gaze flicked once more to Fenix, then returned to me. He inclined his head, precise and deferential.
“My lord.”
I answered with a nod and nothing else.
Kastor took his time leaving, every step placed with intention. The tension in the room shifted only after he was fully gone.
Caelira
Maren and I returned through the lower passage, boots echoing faintly against stone still cool from the morning air. We hadn’t spoken much since leaving the outer yard. Sparring had pulled my thoughts back, burned off the excess edges, left me steadier than I had been when we started.
Grounded.
That was how I knew something was wrong.
The shift reached me before anything else did.
The keep has a rhythm when its calm. A way the air moves. The sound of voices carrying without strain. As we climbed the last steps toward the inner corridor, that rhythm tightened. Not alarm. Not panic. Focus.
Maren slowed beside me, her hand brushing the hilt at her hip without conscious intent. “You feel it too,” she said quietly.
“Yes.”
We had nearly reached Atlas’s office door when it opened.
Kastor stepped out.
He closed the door behind him with care, the sound of it final in a way that made me take notice. He paused when we saw us, just long enough to acknowledge our presence, then inclined his head in greeting.
“Ladies,” he said.
There was something unreadable in his expression.
He moved past us without another word, his footsteps retreating down the corridor at a slow, deliberate pace. Maren’s gaze followed him until he disappeared around the bend.
She didn’t comment. Neither did I.
I looked back at the door instead.
Whatever was happening hadn’t been meant for us to witness from the outside. I didn’t knock.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside, Maren behind me. Maren shut the door behind us, the sound landing heavier than it should have.
Atlas stood near the table, his posture unchanged, but his attention sharpened the instant I crossed the threshold. Atlas looked surprised to see me, it passed quickly, but not before I caught it.
Joren remained by the window, half turned now, attention split between the world beyond the walls and the one contained within them. Calder stood opposite Atlas, one hand braced against the map, shoulders squared like a man holding ground rather than occupying space.
