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“We know he’s working with the enemy. What if they try to retrieve him?” she asked.

“I have the house under guard.”

“No… no, that’s not good enough. Before the Schism, that house had its own private entrance to the underground airtram tunnels. I’m uncertain if it was cleared during the renovation. You need to pull him out.”

“The only long-term medical care facility we have right now is the healing park.”

That… wasn’t bad, actually. “A tent in a field would be much easier to guard than a house.”

Ivain’s expression turned thoughtful as the idea took root. “And we could monitor any communication going in and out…” He sighed and shook his head. “There’s no way this doesn’t turn into a political incident. His people won’t take kindly to what’s essentially an arrest.”

Sarina took a slow sip of tea, the corner of her mouth lifting upward. “You just leave that to me.”

“Where are they taking him?” Taly asked two days later, standing on the street outside the townhouse with Sarina and Skye and watching as, at the bottom of the hill, people crowded around Kalahad’s front gate.

“Somewhere I’m sure he’ll be very comfortable,” Sarina said, arms folded neatly. Smug satisfaction flickered in her eyes as she observed the chaos below.

Kalahad’s grand townhouse was a hive of commotion. His household was causing quite the scene, shouting and gesturing in a frantic attempt to prevent his removal.

Sarina tsked her tongue. “Can you believe his healer faked his credentials? It’s a good thing we stepped in when we did. Poor dear…”

Kalahad’s unconscious form was being carried out on a stretcher, his face pale, as if he were already halfway to the grave.

“Was the healer actually a fake?” Skye asked.

Sarina’s smile sharpened. “I wouldn’t sayfake. But he does have a reputation of malpractice and patient abuse, so I doubt anyone will mourn the loss.”

The wind shifted, tugging at their cloaks. A figure approached, making his way up the hill—a courier, and he was heading straight for them.

He stopped in front of Taly. “This is for the human.”

The box was large, ornate, and made of deep mahogany inlaid with silver filigree. Taly reached for it, frowning. “Uh, thanks? Who is it—”

But the courier had already turned, starting his journey back down the hill.

She shook the box. Something inside jangled.

She lifted the lid—and her breath stalled. Nestled on a bed of red velvet was a necklace of intricately woven gold threads, its pendant a fiery ruby that blazed with its own inner light.

It must’ve been worth a fortune. Not just in gold, but in history. This was the necklace High Queen Lysara had worn at her coronation. Taly remembered reading it on the little plaque in the display.

Skye let out a low whistle. “I think I’m going to have to step up my game.”

Taly barely heard him. There was a note. Her fingers trembled as she flicked the seal off and snapped the paper open.

My dear,

I noticed you admiring this the other night. So, I thought I’d send it ahead—just a little something to keep you company.

Distance changes nothing. I see you still.

Yours truly, always watching…

Taly stared at the words—stared and stared, as if the meaning might shift on the fourth or fifth read.

Sarina saw her face, the blood draining. “What’s wrong, Taly? Who sent it?”

Chapter 37