They were watching a victory.
A slow inhale pulled me back, and I realized Cordelle had moved beside me. His green eyes were solemn, the freckles on his face standing out stark against the pale tightness of his expression.
He followed my gaze, then spoke softly. “The guilds are fracturing.”
His voice was low, certain.
“It’s only a matter of time before we’re forced to choose.”
I didn’t look away from the balcony.
Because he was right.
And Theron was already picking the pieces he planned to sweep off the board.
Major Ledor’s voice cut through the tension like a whip crack. “To attention!”
The command pulled every rider into line. Even the ones still shaken by Epsom’s fire landed hard in formation, eyes snapping forward. The major stood near the scorched edge of the Ascension Grounds, his expression tight, jaw clenched hard enough I could see the twitch in his cheek.
He scanned us all—Stormforge, Iron Fang, Warborn, Crownwatch, Thrall, and his voice carried like thunder.
“Let what happened today serve as a reminder. The bond between rider and dragon is sacred. It is not political. It is not conditional. And it is not optional.”
His eyes swept the stunned faces. “If you ever willingly sever your connection, if you lie to your dragon, and if you poison that bond… you will die.” He paused, letting the silence settle like ash. “Not by execution. By consequence.”
His gaze flicked, just for a heartbeat, to the royal balcony above.
Theron stood stiffer than usual, the smugness replaced with a subtle twitch of discomfort. Inderia whispered something in his ear, but he didn’t respond.
The major looked, for once, like a man who’d swallowed a bug and was beginning to realize it might still be alive in his throat.
He no longer looked certain that the third prince had the best interest of Warriath at heart.
A voice rose from the Warborn ranks. “What about the other Varnari sympathizers?”
Heads turned. The rider’s face was unreadable, but the tension behind the words was real.
Major Ledor nodded. “We have been given a list of riders believed to be sympathetic to the Varnari cause. Some may be misled. Others… not.”
His voice dropped. “If your name is called, you’ll come with me for a briefing.”
Everyone stilled.
“Darion of Crownwatch.”
A rider stepped forward, face pale.
“Kye of Crownwatch. Trell of Warborn. Mora of Warborn.” He paused. “Ferrula of Thrall.”
My heart dropped like a stone.
I turned as Jax did the same. His eyes locked on Ferrula, wide with disbelief.
Her expression didn’t waver, stoic, unreadable, but I saw the flicker of pain behind it. A twitch in her jaw. A tightening of her fingers.
“Ferr—” Jax started, but she just held up a hand.
“I’ll go,” she said. Her voice didn’t shake.
