She is strong.I have helped. I do not ask for much, so when I do, the Sovereign Flame listens. As long as it is within reason.
Kailorien ran a hand through his hair, the weight of too many revelations pressing against his skull. His thoughts jumped in all directions. He tried to see this as a war—no doubt, this was a battle—but no strategy came. Not even a contingency. Just…nothing. Static in his mind, like the sound of wind churning sand in a metal barrel.
“Lu’ma, come this way,” he called. The Attendant turned, eyes hard. Determined. But Kailorien caught the tremor in her steps. The tension in her shoulders. As soon as she stood near him, she made to bow. He caught her arm. Stopped her.
“No need. Not here,” he told her. “I only need truth from you now.”
Auryn stirred on the mattress, her voice rough but laced with the fraying threads of resistance. “Kailorien, don’t—”
He stood, crossed the short space between them, and sat. Not on the narrow cot, but beside it, on the floor, knees bent, braced near Auryn's side. One hand reached up. His fingers steady, he brushed the damp strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear. With his thumb, he traced the shape of her mouth. Not intimate. Not loving.
Claiming.
A warning given in gesture.
He’d had his fill of her secrets, and he would brook none of her protests in this. His eyes locked with hers—unmoving, unwavering. And the words passed not with voice, but with heat and weight and finality, humming along the Bond until they buried themselves in her chest.
Enough, Auryn. Be still.For once, you will not fight me. For once, you will let me carry what I should have from the start.
Her breath left her body like a whispered surrender. Her muscles slackened. Her mouth parted under his thumb. Her eyes closed, and she said nothing more.
You will rest now. Understand?
She nodded, and he lingered for one heartbeat—two—before his hand fell away, and he turned from her. Back to the warding Attendant. He gestured for her to approach, sitting in such a way that his large body blocked Auryn from seeing the girl’s signing. Lu’ma obeyed, chin lifting, hands already moving. Her signs were slow, halting, but unmistakable.
‘This Nameless shows respect to the mighty Resh’Agar.’
He watched her hands, waiting.
‘Your Quintessence has saved Her Radiance. This Nameless is grateful.’
“Tell me,” he said, “why this room?”
‘Her Radiance walks when sleeping. This room is near the Servitor. This Nameless comes at night. Wards the doors. Ensures Her Radiance stays.’
She hesitated, her hands fumbling.
“Speak.”
Still, she paused.
“Lu’ma, please.” The edge in his voice softened a fraction.
TheAttendant took a halting breath. ‘Her Radiance sometimes screams. In sleep. They laugh. They remember.This room is in darkness. No one to hear the screams. But this Nameless hears.’
Kailorien’s fists clenched at his sides. He forced his thoughts to stillness, not wanting to relay his fury through the Bond. Not now. She needed to heal. To rest.
‘This Nameless will ward the room again. Wards taught by the Sokâr. Shaped to repel.’
“Repel who?”
‘Companions. Other Attendants. Those who come to steal and rip Her Radiance’s journals. To steal her furs. To find lost hair.’
Kailorien’s jaw clenched. “You will show me these wards. I will reinforce them.”
Lu’ma nodded.
“Now.”
