Every possessive instinct I had screamed against it.
But I’d been the one pushing for offensive action, saying we couldn’t just defend and react. We needed to match the master’s tactical spread.
Careful what you wish for, Raynoff.
The interim council needs visible results, Parker added. Public confidence is wavering. Parents are pulling students from Wickem. International authorities have been questioning our competence. We need to demonstrate we’re taking action, not just reacting to attacks.
So that was it. We weren’t just tactical assets. We were public relations.
The interim council will vote to authorize deployment, Father said. All in favor?
Four hands went up around the table, strategic sense overriding any hesitation.
Then Father looked at us. And the heirs? You understand what’s being asked?
Marigold’s hand rose first this time. Decisive. Her own choice, not looking to any of us for permission.
Keane followed. Then Elio.
I kept my hand down for one long moment—long enough to let them all know this wasn’t easy. Long enough to make it clear I was choosing this, not just accepting it.
Then my hand rose.
Unanimous, Father said. Elio and Cyrus depart tomorrow at dawn. Keane and Marigold coordinate from Wickem. We will reconvene when you return.
The meeting dissolved into logistics of portal schedules, supply lists, and communication protocols.
I stayed silent through all of it, my fire building hotter with every minute.
THE NEXT MORNING, WE STOOD in the royal common room. The planning and official business was done. Just us now, figuring out how to say goodbye.
Marigold stood between Keane and Elio. She was clearly comfortable with them in ways that made my chest tight—easy proximity, familiar touches, the kind of intimacy that came from established trust and time I hadn’t put in.
I stood apart. Still on the outside. Still fighting the urge to demand she choose instead of learning to share.
Raven’s been corrupted for months, Marigold said. Her voice was steady, but her hands weren’t, her fingers twisted together.
Scout’s glow dimmed to a soft, steady green as he leaned into her.
What if… She took a breath. What if there’s nothing left to save?
Then we make sure the master can’t use her again, I said, too harsh and too blunt.
But I didn’t soften truth just because it hurt.
Elio’s pale blue eyes studied me with that unsettling perception he’d developed since dropping his masks. We’ll find her. Whatever state she’s in.
Marigold turned to me then, her dark brown eyes searching mine for something I didn’t know how to give. You don’t have to go.
The words lit a fuse in my chest.
The council…
Can’t actually force you, she interrupted. You’re an heir. You could refuse. Stay here and—
And what? My fire flared hot enough that Ember trilled a warning. Watch the master operate globally while we cluster in one place? Let Raven suffer because I’m too attached to stay objective?
Too attached to you, I didn’t say. Too fucked up about sharing to handle watching you with them every day while pretending I’m fine.
