A ripple passed through the room when he looked at me. Subtle, but unmistakable. The way soldiers straighten for someone whose authority is unquestioned.
Maren stiffened beside me.
The man inclined his head a fraction, an acknowledgment rather than a greeting.
“Lady Caelira,” he said, voice smooth as carved stone. “It seems you’ve wandered far from where you ought to be.”
Something in his tone made the back of my neck prickle.
Polite, yes.
But dripping with the implication that he knew where I ought to be, and it wasn’t here.
“I wasn’t aware the keep had assigned routes for walking,” I said.
A slight tilt pulled at his mouth. Not a smile, more like someone privately marking a point on a board only he could see.
“The castle is on high alert,” he replied. “Unescorted women are being moved to safer halls.”
The words landed like a slow slap.
Unescorted women.
Safer halls.
As if I were someone fragile.
As if my presence here was a liability.
Maren stiffened beside me, breath catching with a quiet flare of indignation she didn’t dare voice.
He continued as though he hadn’t just insulted me under the guise of courtesy.
“You heard the horn, I trust?” he asked mildly.
“The breach on the wardline is not a small matter. These corridors are hardly the place for someone in your… position.”
Someone in my position.
Whatever he meant by that, it wasn’t flattering.
A stormglass panel behind him flickered, amber bleeding across its surface. Officers watched me now—not with suspicion, but with evaluation, as though Kastor’s reaction to me mattered just as much as whatever threat waited outside the walls.
The man’s gaze dipped—subtly, deliberately—to the faint curl of shadow at my feet.
I stilled it.
He noticed. Of course he noticed.
“Interesting,” he said softly.
I clenched my jaw but didn’t bite. I didn’t trust my voice not to crack the air open.
He stepped closer, posture immaculate, hands clasped behind him. “Understand this, Lady Caelira,” he said, voice pitched low enough to mimic confidence, “the Storm Court protects its own. It would be… unfortunate if you found yourself entangled in matters beyond your preparation.”
Beyond my preparation. Not beyond my rank. Not beyond my authority. Beyond my capability.
The insult slid under my ribs with surgical precision.
