“She’s a ward,” Sadia pressed, her tone matter-of-fact, but edged with a hint of regret. “Theonlyreason she’s still breathing after failing the trials is because wards serve two purposes: maintaining the Institute and entertaining the guards.”
Heknewthis. Of course he did. It was his damn family that created the Institutes. His family that suggested keeping the unsuccessful students to repurpose them. It was mercy; they said. Everything was already in place before he was born. He couldn’t change the ‘proven’ methods of the Thorn Family.
And yet, he had turned a blind eye.
He had hoped—stupidly, desperately hoped—that he could get Elora out before she fell victim to the worst depravity this place offered. That if he moved carefully enough, if he played the right hand at the right time, he might protect her from this fate.
But hope was a fool’s luxury.
His posture slumped, exhaustion pressing down on him. His anger wasn’t for Sadia. Not really.
It was for Abernathy. For Gerard. For his family. For the Empire, that let this happen, over and over again. It was for himself, for knowing all of this and still pretending he could win.
Tehvan let out a slow breath, forcing his hands to unclench. “I know,” he murmured. “You’re right.” The admission tasted bitter.
Sadia studied him thoughtfully, then nodded.
He swallowed hard, his voice quieter now. “Thank you. For helping her. At leastsomeonewas able to.”
Sadia sighed, shifting in her chair. The leather creaked under her. “Why did you come to my room earlier?”
Tehvan rubbed the back of his skull, fingers pressing hard into tense muscles. His shoulders drooped further. This conversation would not help.
Wordlessly, he reached into his coat and pulled out a folded letter, sliding it across the desk. The golden wax seal gleamed against the aged parchment; the imprint of a bee pressed into its surface. Sadia hesitated before taking it, her fingertips brushing over the seal as she unfolded the letter.
Tehvan sat silently, waiting for what he knew would come.
Then—
A sharp inhale.
Sadia’s hand flew to her mouth. “Analise is dead?” The words came out unsteady, breathless. “How?”
Tehvan didn’t meet her eyes. He shook his head, though it felt too heavy to move. “I don’t know. I’m not sure Iwantto know.”
She scanned the letter again as if she had misread it, as if the message might change if she looked hard enough.
“Do you think Abernathy had something to do with it?”
At that, Tehvan’s head lifted. “No,” he said without hesitation. “If he was going to use my wife against me, he would have already.”
The candlelight flickered between them, casting a wavering glow over her face. After a pause, she asked carefully, “Are you going to stop in Aszona before you leave for Al’tera? See if there’s anything you can do—”
“No.” The word was sharp, final. He cut her off before she could finish. “If it wasn’t an accident, her colleagues will avenge her.” His jaw tightened. “Ican’tlet this distract me.”
Sadia watched him, her gaze dancing across his face, trying to understand him. But she didn’t argue. Instead, she folded the letter back up and set it down between them.
Tehvan exhaled, his fingers clenching and unclenching before he gripped the ring once more, pressing it between his thumb and forefinger. The faint, steady rhythm of Elora’s heartbeat pulsed upon his skin.
“I loved her,” he murmured, barely above a whisper. The words lodged in his throat, heavier than he expected. “But she’sgone.Has been for years.”
He looked at Sadia then, and now there was no anger left in his eyes. Just exhaustion. Just resolve.
“Elora isn’t.”
Sheneededhim. Now more than ever.
There would be time to grieve Analise.
