A look that promised future conflict.
Not compliance.
Bootsteps crashed down the far corridor—fast, uneven, the rhythm of someone who’d been running long before he realized he was late. A Stormguard scout appeared in the archway, rain streaking his armor, mud spattered to his knees, breath comingin sharp pulls. The chamber parted for him instinctively, as though the storm itself had sent him.
He dropped to one knee before Atlas, fist to the stone.
“Your Highness… Dawnbreak riders breached the wards at dawn. They’ve halted on the lower road—just past the first checkpoint—and are holding formation in the rain. They refuse to advance or withdraw.”
A ripple of silence swept through the War Gallery.
The stormglass map flickered, amber veins pulsing faster, adjusting to the news. Officers stiffened. Even the air seemed to grow aware of itself, coiling tighter inside the vaulted chamber.
Atlas’s jaw tightened. “How many?”
“Seven riders,” the scout said. “Armed. And… there is a priest among them.”
Kastor didn’t move, but the shift in the room was unmistakable. His attention sharpened. His posture grew even more rigid, if that were possible.
“State his purpose,” Kastor said.
The scout’s throat worked before the words emerged. “He claims he was sent to verify a disturbance in the storm.”
The phrase dropped like a stone into dark water.
But the next words were worse.
“He says the disturbance carries a signature not belonging to Storm Court lineage. He demands audience with… with the girl inside the keep who bears it.”
The chamber froze.
Officers went still mid-breath.
Stormguard straightened, boots rooted.
No one spoke, but every gaze in the room turned to me slowly, like metal dragged by a magnet.
Kastor didn’t look at me immediately. His gaze moved firs to the wardline projection. The amber flare reflected in his eyes, calculating. Then, slowly, he turned toward me.
My stomach dropped, shadows rising in a tight coil around my ankles before I forced them still. Maren stepped closer, so subtly most people wouldn’t have seen it, but I felt it like a hand placed at the small of my back. Atlas moved half a step forward, placing himself between me and the stunned silence of the room. Not blocking me but standing with me. Anchoring me.
Kastor exhaled quietly, the sound thin, calculating. “Then we proceed as expected.”
He didn’t even look at me when he continued.
“We move her immediately to the inner wing.”
Atlas’s head snapped toward him.
“What?”
“It is a matter of containment,” Kastor said, tone maddeningly level. “Dawnbreak priests specialize in manipulation. If she remains visible, their demand gains legitimacy. If we remove her from sight?—”
“You assume she agrees to that,” Atlas said sharply.
Kastor didn’t blink.
“She does not need to agree. The Court decides matters of security.”
