Page 254

“I said release them.”

The warden looks between Eagan and me, searching for a way out and finding none.

“There are fees,” he says weakly. “The market will claim losses.”

“Send the claim to the castle.”

“The ledgers—”

“The ledgers,” I cut in, my voice calm enough that I barely recognize it, “will be brought to the castle. Every name will be reviewed, every debt accounted for, and every person inside these cages will be fed, housed, and given the choice of where they go next.”

The warden stares at me, his face pale but stubborn, his cane clutched so tightly his knuckles look ready to split through the skin.

“My lady, with respect, you do not have the authority to dissolve Crown contracts simply because you object to the conditions,” he says, though his voice shakes enough to ruin the attempt at dignity. “These people belong to the system. Their debts are registered, and their claims are active. Until the king himself issues a direct order, I cannot release them.”

A voice sounds behind us, low and cold enough to still every breath in the yard.

“You will release them because your queen ordered it.”

The warden freezes.

Out of the corner of my eye, Eagan’s mouth twitches, though he wisely says nothing.

I do not have to turn to know Kylian has arrived because the bond warms at once, steady and powerful beneath my ribs, and every person in the yard seems to feel the change as surely as I do.

The warden turns slowly, and every bit of color drains from his face.

Kylian walks through the iron gates with no hurry at all, his dark coat moving around his legs, his eyes fixed on the old man in a way that makes the warden’s cane tremble against the stones.

“My king,” the warden stammers, bowing so quickly he nearly loses his balance. “I meant no disrespect. I was only explaining that the market cannot simply be emptied without proper notice. These contracts have value. These people agreed to the penalty when they took on their debt. They signed up for this, and the buyers who have already registered for tomorrow’s assessment will expect compensation.”

Kylian stops beside me, close enough that his sleeve brushes mine, though his gaze never leaves the warden.

“They signed up for this?”

“Yes, my king, of course you know this,” the warden says quickly, desperate now that he thinks he has found firmer ground. “Those with unpaid debts, petty criminals, abandoned dependents, they sign themselves into Crown holding, and the market merely handles lawful transfer.”

“I know we have a broken system that has permitted slavery beneath the prettier language of clearing debt,” Kylian replies.

The warden swallows loudly. “No, my king, they voluntarily surrender themselves to the Crown.”

“You are speaking to the Crown,” Kylian says, and his hand lifts slightly toward me. “She ordered you to release them.”

The warden looks at me then, properly this time, and I watch the insult form behind his eyes before fear forces it back down.

“My king, you do not understand, I cannot simply open the gates because she . . .” He stops as Kylian takes one quiet step forward.

“Choose the rest of that sentence with great care.”

The warden’s mouth works soundlessly.

“Zander’s time on this island is finished,” Kylian says, his voice not rising. “And with it ends every indulgence he permitted in this place.”

The warden looks toward the cells where the debtors have gone utterly still, faces pressed between bars, hands curled around iron, eyes wide with the terrible danger of hope.

“My king, the markets have always operated under Crown law.”

“They operated under control and fear,” Kylian replies. “And now they operate under me.”