No.
No.
"Vorak?"
Annora's voice cuts through the red haze like a knife through silk.
I turn my head—just enough to see her standing in the doorway to the main hall, still wearing the gray wool dress from this morning, her hair slightly mussed like she's been working. There's a smudge of something green on her sleeve. Herbs, probably. She's been in the infirmary again.
She looks at me. At the Inquisitor. At the drawn weapons.
And her face goes carefully, deliberately blank.
I've seen that look before. On slaves. On people who've learned that showing fear only makes it worse.
Something in my chestcracks.
"Go inside," I tell her, and I fight to make my voice sound human. "This doesn't concern you."
"Actually—" The Inquisitor turns toward her with that smile. "—it concerns her entirely. Good morning, asset. Come here, please."
She doesn't move.
The Inquisitor's smile thins. "That wasn't a request."
"She stays where she is." I move before I think about it, putting myself between him and Annora. The runes are crawling up past my elbows now, burning. "You want verification? Fine. She's here. She's alive. She'sunharmed. Inspection complete."
"I'll need to examine—"
"You'll need toleave." The last word comes out with too much teeth showing. "Before I forget why keeping you alive is politically advantageous."
For the first time, the Inquisitor's smile falters.
Good.
Let him see what he's poking.
He studies me for a long moment—weighing options, calculating risks—then his smile returns. Thinner. Colder.
"Very well. I'll report your...cooperation... to the Crown." He tucks the document back into his coat. "But Lord Vorak? The clock is ticking. Thirty days. Then she comes home."
He mounts his horse with practiced ease, his guards following suit.
"Oh, and one more thing." He pauses, looking down at me from horseback. "The king sends his regards. He's very interested in how well you're... managing... your new acquisition."
The threat is clear:We're watching.
I don't respond. Can't trust my voice.
They ride out, hoofbeats fading into the forest.
I stand there, breathing too hard, fists clenched so tight my claws are cutting into my palms. Blood drips slow and dark onto the cobblestones.
"Vorak."
Annora's voice again. Closer.
I turn.
