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As Tyghan walked down one of those long hallways, a question snaked through him, making his skin crawl. He was afraid he knew the answer already, but he still had to ask, and he wanted to do so before there was an audience looking on.

Kasta would be the first of his crew at Winterwood, busy getting things ready, so he arrived early, hoping to catch her alone. He found her speaking to the guards. As soon as she saw him, she broke away and came over to where he waited some distance away—where even the guards wouldn’t hear.

“Everything is set,” she said. “The tailors worked all night. The knights are in the salon getting ready for—”

“I need to ask you something,” Tyghan said. Kasta froze, knowing by his tone it wasn’t a question about the parley. “How long did you tell Kierus he was being sentenced for?”

Kasta blinked, her chest rising in a slow guilty breath. “I told him a thousand years.”

“And how long did youactuallygive him?”

She stared at him, the answer already in her eyes.

Tyghan only nodded. A menacing nod, not one of acceptance. Kasta became earnest then. “I thought you’d come around,” she explained. “I was trying to protect you from the council. He didn’t deserve—”

“Don’t. Don’t even try to make this about me. You’re a knight, and your commander gave you orders. This was about resentment, revenge, and hiding what you had done.”

She abandoned excuses and squared her shoulders, standing tall as if she expected him to strike her down. She rolled her lips over her teeth, bracing herself. “Now what?” she asked, expecting to be dismissed immediately—or worse.

But he needed her. At this point he couldn’t rip apart his team and reorganize it. He couldn’t put someone else in charge of all the duties she was midway in executing. She was his First Officer, and a hundred details were in her head alone. He curled his fingers into his palm, trying to avoid hurling a fireball down the empty hallway. There was no perfect solution. She hadn’t done anything to directly jeopardize the mission, only his trust. “I don’t know what comes next,” he said, “except for you to follow the same orders I gave you last night. Finish your duties without error.”

“I will. I—”

He turned and walked away before she could finish, but he had nowhere to go.

“Going the wrong direction, aren’t you? You passed the ballroom quite some distance back.”

Tyghan glanced to the side. Eris sat on a bench that hugged the wall, shadows nearly obscuring him. “Looks like you’re in the wrong place too,” he replied.

Eris shuffled through some papers in his lap. “Just sorting out a few things.”

“I guess that’s what I’m doing too.”

Eris stood, the papers rustling in his hands. “We should go back. It’s starting soon.”

They walked at a slow pace, neither of them eager to go where they needed to be.

“What’s troubling you?” Eris asked.

Tyghan shrugged. “What makes you think something is troubling me?”

“Your face. Your voice. I know the signs. When you stop yelling and issuing orders you’re troubled. Deeply. You’re well past the anger stage.”

Tyghan didn’t try to ease the blow with tactful words. There were none. “Bristol found her father in the pillar, then blackmailed Kasta to get him out. Kierus is free. Somewhere.”

Eris was silent. This was far more troubling than what he had expected to hear. “How?” he finally said. “How could she ever blackmail Kasta? With what? She’s a stellar knight.”

“Yesterday, that’s what I would have thought too.” Tyghan told him the details of what Bristol had learned from her father that day in the barn. The papers crinkled in Eris’s fist. He gazed at the floor, trying to process this new turn of events. They arrived at the ballroom entrance but remained in the empty hallway, reluctant to go inside.

“I don’t know what to do about Kasta,” Tyghan said. “My mind says she’s the best. But my gut is wary—and it’s too late to put her duties on anyone else. It’s three short days until the ceremony.”

“And what is Bristol’s state of mind?”

Tyghan hissed. “Not good.”

“You two are at odds?”

“Odds? That’s like saying—” Tyghan looked up at the soaring ceiling, shaking his head, unable to answer.