The council chamber was chaos.
Nobles shouting.
Generals pacing.
Mage-healers whispering prayers.
Servants trembling at the walls.
Riven slammed his fist on the table.
“Enough!”
Silence fell.
Kaedan stood at the head of the table, Ariaxa at his side—still pale, still recovering, but with eyes bright and sharp.
Riven spoke first.
“We found them. Triarch spies.”
He tossed a bloodied sigil onto the table. “At least twenty among the servants.”
Gasps erupted.
A noble stammered, “Twenty? Inside the palace?!”
“Inside your bedrooms,” Riven said coldly. “Your kitchens. Your children’s halls.”
Fear rippled through the room.
Kaedan’s jaw tightened, a growl low in his throat.
“They will all die.”
Ariaxa stepped forward.
“Not before we find the highest-ranking spy.”
The generals exchanged uneasy glances.
“What do you propose?” one asked. “We’ve already tightened security—”
“Security didn’t stop them before,” Ariaxa said. “And it won’t stop them now.”
Her voice carried the weight of someone who had survived their worst traps.
“We must force the traitor to make a move. On me.”
Kaedan slammed his hand down so hard the table cracked.
“NO.”
The word shook the council.
Ariaxa didn’t flinch.
“You want answers. This is the only way.”
The nobles turned to Kaedan nervously.
Riven pinched the bridge of his nose.
“She’s right.”
Kaedan snarled.
“Do not agree with her.”
Riven met his gaze calmly. “She understands court manipulation better than any of us. The nobles trust her. Fear her. Watch her. If anyone can draw the assassin out in a controlled environment, it is her.”
Kaedan’s eyes burned with rage.
Ariaxa touched his arm gently.
“Kaedan… we win wars on battlefields. But the Triarchs fight with shadows and whispers. Let me win this for us.”
The bond pulsed.
Kaedan froze.
She had never asked for them before.
Only for others.
Only for peace.
But now—
For the first time, Ariaxa wanted something for them.
Kaedan’s breath shuddered.
Slowly, painfully, grudgingly, he nodded.
“You will have guards.”
“No.”
“You will have Riven.”
“No.”
“You will be surrounded by shields.”
“No.”
Kaedan’s voice dropped to a lethal whisper.
“Ariaxa—”
She stepped closer, laying her palm on his chest.
“Trust. Me.”
The council held its breath.
Kaedan closed his eyes like the words physically hurt him.
“Fine,” he whispered.
Ariaxa exhaled.
But Kaedan wasn’t finished.
His voice deepened, turning deadly.
“But I’m not letting you walk into a nest of vipers alone.”
Ariaxa frowned. “What are you planning?”
Kaedan didn’t answer.
Riven shot Ariaxa a look.
A… sympathetic look.
That was alarming.
“Ariaxa,” he said carefully, “you should probably know—”
Kaedan cut him off.
“No. She doesn’t need to know.”
Ariaxa stepped forward, suspicion rising.
“Kaedan.”
He lifted his eyes to hers.
Too innocent.
Too calm.
Too controlled.
Which meant:
he was hiding something.
“Kaedan,” she repeated slowly, “what are you going to do?”
Silence.
Then—
A ripple of magic brushed past the bond.
An image.
Armor.
Black.
Cloaked in shadow.
The emblem of the palace shadow-guard.
Ariaxa’s eyes widened.
“Kaedan,” she whispered, horror and awe crashing over her, “you’re planning to go to the feast.”
He smiled. Dark. Dangerous. Wicked.
“In disguise.”
Her breath caught.
“You intend to stand at my back,” she breathed. “You intend to watch every step I take. And kill anyone who touches me.”
Kaedan tilted his head, eyes gleaming.
“I’m glad you understand.”