But now...
I dressed fast, heart already thudding. Riven didn’t explain further, she just waited until my boots hit the ground and then led me out the door at a clipped pace.
The morning mist hadn’t yet burned off, and the training rings were thick with unease. Squad members formed a half-circle around the main clearing, where a figure lay sprawled on the stone like a discarded shadow.
Dead.
My breath caught.
Black leather. No insignia. No armor. Just a glint of silver threading the seams—a pattern only visible to someone who knew what to look for.
I stepped closer, ice filling my veins.
I knew that uniform.
One of the Order’s assassins. Low-tier, if I had to guess or he wouldn’t be lying here. His throat was slit with no defensive wounds. It wasn’t a fight.
It was an offering.
Major Ledor stood over the body, face as cold as granite, his voice slicing through the morning air.
“The assassin responsible for Lady Belana’s death has been found,” he declared. “Let this be a warning. The Order will pay for their trespasses.”
It was a witch hunt. Rage flared in my chest.
I reached out through the bond.Zander…?
I know,he responded, his voice barely a whisper in my mind, but I felt the fury beneath it, a pressure like boiling water sealed in steel.I didn’t bring him here. I don’t know who did.
Across the circle, Major Ledor turned slightly, nodding toward Zander with a too-perfect smile. “We thank Prince Zander Rayne for aiding in the capture. His loyalty to the crown is, as always, admirable.”
Zander didn’t reply.
He didn’t need to.
I felt his anger bleed through the bond—quiet, restrained, dangerous.
The major stepped back and motioned distinctly. “Take the body. Burn it. The rest of you are dismissed. You’ll report to the dining hall immediately.”
Thrall Squad turned as one, silent and grim, our boots crunching over morning frost as we walked.
But the fire I saw in Zander’s eyes as we passed each other?
It wasn’t cooling.
Whoever planted that corpse had made a fatal mistake.
They thought they’d delivered justice.
But they’d just declared war.
On the Order.
The line for food crawled forward with all the enthusiasm of a funeral march. The dining hall buzzed with low conversation, most of it about the dead assassin and the major’s speech. Everyone was pretending to be fine. No one was.
I reached for a barely warm biscuit when a tap on my shoulder made me freeze.
I turned, half-expecting Riven or Naia with some half-baked joke, but?—
