The table hushed into silence then, Callum’s face remaining unreadable. It was that cold, calculating stillness that wasn’t new for meetings.
But tonight, it didn’t feel like focus. It felt like something gnawed at him.
My attention turned to Duke.“Report.”
It was a practiced voice that came from me. Authority had never come easily, but to Callum, it lived in his bones. He spoke, and people followed. Hewasa leader.
No one looked at me that way.
Duke’s eyes moved to Callum, who gave one nod, barely a hint of movement, but enough to say everything.Permission granted.
My jaw tightened and I swallowed the sting, not letting it bleed across my face as Duke unrolled the map in one swift motion.
“Obrann has stationed troops at two territories due south.” Duke tapped two dots just shy of the Ryuu border.“Silverwilde and Sunhaven. Neither has means of defense. He won’t want it to appear as though they’re threatened, it’s just surveillance. But they’re searching for the heir and anyone who might know something.”
Duke was a statue in the palace, silent enough to hear things he shouldn’t.
When Ford returned, he slumped back into his seat, mud half smeared from his shirt, blood still crusted along his jaw.
He caught my eye and I gave him a thumbs up.
Duke kept going, rubbing at the smooth skin lining his jaw.“They’re also asking about dragons. Likely suspicious of their sudden appearance.”His focus swept the table, pinning us each in turn before settling on Rook.“They don’t know your name. To them, to the guards, you’re just an unknown rebel who got lucky. Still,”his voice sharpened, “lay low.”
Rook inclined his head, his newly shorn hair and restructured face catching in the candlelight. The baneleaf had done its work, clever bastard’s idea.
When touched to skin, it warped features just enough to erase recognition. Briefly.
“Obrann’s furious about it falling through,”Callum murmured, eyes still on the papers. “He’s not being awfully vocal about it, but you can feel it. Along with stationing soldiers south, he’s asked me to prepare a team.” A tap of his fingers. One. Two. “He’s not posturing anymore, he’s hunting.”
Everyone’s eyes shot to him.
“Hunting what, exactly?” Gus asked. “The heir?”
“And the stones,” Callum answered. “We know he has two for certain, the ones from Luamis. He thinks he has a third.” A humorless laugh. “He doesn’t.”
Ford sprawled back against his chair, raising a brow. “Do we get to askhowsure you are of that, or do we just pretend you’re never wrong?”
Callum ignored him. “He’s convinced the two from Nyctom are all he needs. He knows the last stone from Ryuu was destroyed shortly after being forged so he’s not wasting time there. He thinks darkness bends easier than flame.” A tic in his jaw. “He’s wrong. But he’s close enough that he believes he’s already won.”
My shoulders rolled back, a shadowed heat uncoiling with the motion.
The message was clear enough. We needed to find the missing heir, the one meant to stand in the dark kingdom’s place, before Obrann did.
“Stick with your stories,”Callum went on, flipping another page.“If anyone asks, we’re loyal citizens. There’s no reason for suspicion.”
The words were mostly for the newer ones. Their legs knocked against the table, rattling the wood. They hadn’t yet learned the trick of how to live with the knowledge that you were already a traitor, and still believe you were safe.
Duke shifted, shoulders tight, a hand scraping along the column of his throat, like he could stall the words there.
He gave a slow inhale that we all felt before he spoke. “The king,”his voice came quiet, almost reluctant, “is planning to invite Prince Ronan to Perseus and Elvira’s pre-wedding ball.”
Callum didn’t move at first.
Then there was a resounding crack as papers slammed to the table, their edges snapping into perfect alignment beneath his fists. He laid the pile on the table without looking up, placing his intertwined hands on them, rubbing his thumbs against one another, likely hoping the motion could grind the news into grit.
My own blood iced at the news.
I had prayed the next time I saw Ronan it would be on my terms. My blade, my vengeance. Not some gilded ballroom crawling with Obrann’s sycophants.
