Guards surged forward, swords half-drawn, but they hesitated, clearly unsure who the enemy was. Ferrula leaped over her chair, putting herself between Cordelle and the attacker even as Cordy rolled to the floor, wide-eyed but unharmed. Zander shoved me behind him as he stood, his own blade materializing from its sheath.
The would-be assassin scrambled up, slicing toward Riven, but she ducked and twisted, aiming a fist for his temple. He bolted for the door, staggering past stunned nobles.
“Stop him!” someone yelled, but Jax was already moving.
He chased the assassin out into the corridor, his heavy footfalls echoing in the hallway. The entire room held its breath as we waited, as if the very walls leaned in.
A moment later, Jax returned, his eyes dark with fury, a bloodied blade in his hand.
“He’s dead,” he said.
“What happened?” Zander asked, his voice low and lethal.
Jax exhaled. “I tried to take him alive. But he spat out some Vanari bullshit and bit down on a capsule. Poison. Was dead before he hit the ground.”
Riven let out a breath and looked at Cordelle. “You okay, kid?”
Cordy sat up from behind the table, still pale, but nodded. “I think… yeah.”
The banquet was over.
And whatever unity Theron had been preaching about moments before had crumbled like the shattered plates at our feet.
The room hadn’t fully recovered from the chaos of the attack when Theron shot to his feet, his chair scraping violently behind him.
“How did this happen?” His voice cracked through the air like a whip, shrill and furious. “He wasn’t one of my servers! I know every member of my staff—every name, every face.”
Zander crossed his arms beside me, his jaw clenched. “Apparently not.”
Before Theron could respond, Cade’s voice cut through the murmurs.
“You should ask her.” He pointed one arrogant finger across the room, straight at Ferrula.
She didn’t flinch. But her body tensed, like a blade being drawn.
“I’m sure I saw her let a man in through the side door.”
My heart lurched. No. He wouldn’t?—
Theron seized the accusation like a vulture with a fresh kill. He turned to Ferrula, fire in his eyes, and thrust a finger toward her chest.
“Arrest her.”
The guards hesitated.
“You have no proof,” I said, stepping forward.
“She let him in,” Cade insisted, louder this time. “I saw her near the door. She did it just before we took our seats.”
“She was getting Jax some wine,” Riven growled, stepping between Ferrula and the encroaching guards. “We all saw her carry it, you snake.”
Zander moved next to her. “You’d accuse a decorated rider of attempted regicide on the word of someone who abandoned his own squad?”
Theron’s face twitched, but he barked again. “I said arrest her!”
Ferrula looked between us and then held up her hands. Calm. Controlled. But there was a flash of anger in her green eyes.
“I have nothing to hide.”
