I thought I was protecting her.
You cannot protect her. Not from this city. Not from the false king. Certainly not from me.
Shu’Khan saw his inner turmoil. Nothing escaped his notice as long as it existed in the boundary of the Shields.
His gaze grew colder. “We will remind you, Iridias. Your duty is not to her, but to Estâr, to the Shields, to the city.”
A pause, then a smile. Sick. Delighted.
“You must focus on the ritual. Appease the Council and the Companions. Leave the matter of the Sokâr to Us.”
That did it.
“She ismineto protect,” Kailorien bit out.
Shu’Khan’s smile vanished. Silence bloomed like rot. He turned toward the Vesper Seat again, but not before hurling the dagger.
“Fulfill Estâr, Iridias. We will secure the shelter she should have been granted at the start. After all, a creature like this deserves gilded bars, not squalor.”
Kailorien stepped forward, his voice a whisper laced with iron. “Don’t speak of giving her anything. I fought the Council for the right to build her a place of peace. And now you’ll claim that act as your own?”
Shu’Khan didn’t turn.
“Concerned?” he drawled. “Imagine it, her coming to Us instead of her Resh’Agar to ask for help. She already has, you know. More than once.”
Kailorien’s voice cracked, “You authorized the room change. You knew where she was. You knew—”
Finally, Shu’Khan turned his head.
“How odd,” he murmured. “Did you not just say she was yours to protect, Iridias? If so… why expect Us to intervene?”
Kailorien staggered back half a step. The cruelty of the accusation landed slow, deep.
“You placed her in that room knowing what would happen.”
Vargrún's cackle reverberated through his bones.
Kailorien bit the inside of his lip to keep from screaming for Vargrún to be silent. His other runes flared to life with his rising anger, Morvane growing hot as their magic thrummed beneath his skin.
Shu’Khan said nothing. Just stared back with those hollow, inhuman eyes that bore a sickening resemblance to his.
“You let them starve her of hope. Of warmth. Of dignity.”
Another beat of silence.
Then…
“And yet she did not break,” Shu’Khan sighed, and there was a disquieting fascination in his tone. “She has earned this small token of Our affection with her resilience. This wing.”
Kailorien steadied his anger. Dulled his need for vengeance. For now, his pride was the least of his concerns.
“The materials will all move through my approval,” Kailorien demanded. “Blueprints, wards, runes, resources, even decor.”
Shu’Khan waved his hand in the air, dismissive.
“Trivial things. We only have one warning: keep her close if you must. But do not allow devotion to rot into desire.” His voice quieted to a near whisper. “The Resh’Agar was shaped to conquer, to destroy. His touch has consequence, as you well know.”
A pause.
