Queen Mother Ilyra stepped forward.
“Then we are finished here.”
Her voice sealed the moment.
Sabine stood.
Her legs were not steady.
She made them hold.
As she passed Lucien, he did not touch her. Not even a brush of fingers. But the bond moved between them with such force she nearly felt his hand anyway.
He understood what she had done.
The rite could be altered from inside.
Not by denial.
By stronger language.
By witness.
By will.
By a pair willing to answer differently.
The return to the guarded suite happened under changed silence.
Not victory.
No one in the palace allowed victory to walk unescorted.
This silence was more dangerous.
Witnesses had seen the relic crack. Corvek had recorded acceptance. Ilyra had closed the proceeding before Serast could claw the moment back. Elara had left smiling like a woman already planning where to hide the copy.
Sabine reached the suite with her body shaking from the delayed aftermath.
Lysa was waiting.
She took one look at Sabine and closed the door behind her.
“You passed.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Sabine sat before her knees could fail. “I refused the wording.”
Lysa went still.
“I gave it a better answer,” Sabine said.
Lysa crossed herself in the old way. “You are going to get us all killed.”
“Probably.”
