Rythar folds his arms and regards me like he’s waiting for me to challenge him further. His eyes sweep over my face. He’s still unapologetically naked.
“You will not leave the Green Reach.” He’s calm, collected. Like this is inevitable.
“You say that like it’s law.”
“It is my law,” he says, looking away.
There it is, of course. My main problem. I fold my arms.
“And the antivenom?” I ask.
His attention snaps back to me.
“Does your law keep that secret, too? Or do you plan to let them die so no one learns you were envenomed?” I give him my fiercest stare.
“I plan,” he says, voice level as stone, “to let them die before I give my enemies another reason to hunt you.” His gaze doesn’t waver.
“You’d sacrifice them?” The words scrape on the way out.
“I would sacrifice anything that threatens you.”
He doesn’t raise his voice, but the words are deadly serious.
Anything. Not just enemies. Not just rivals. Civilians. Soldiers. Men who never asked for war. My cure. My freedom.
The meaning moves through me slowly. I search his face for hesitation and find none. Only that relentless focus.
“You’re not protecting me,” I say, my voice thinner than I intend. “You’re protecting your claim.”
His expression stills. He’s resolute.
“If you wanted an obedient captive,” I tell him, holding his gaze even as my pulse pounds in my throat, “I’m not the one. You should have let me run.”
He studies me as if I’ve said something far more dangerous than I realize.
Finally, he says, “I did. You would never have gotten out without my help.”
The words land softly, but my heartbeat stumbles. The space between us feels exposed. Like I’ve stepped too close to the edge of a building and only just realized there’s no railing.
He continues. “I cleared the corridor.”
The world tilts a fraction. The doorway behind him. The corridor beyond it. The memory of empty halls. How easily I fled the fortress.
“Why?” I demand. I thought I had at least gotten out of the fortress on my own.
“I wanted to see what you would choose,” he says.
My throat tightens. “You staged my escape,” I say.
“You ran,” he says evenly. “I did not stop you.”
I open my mouth. Close it. Look anywhere but into his burning eyes.
“Where would you have gone,” he asks.
“To the Stone,” I answer.
His eyes hold mine. Red and gold. Unblinking.
