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Isaac tilted his head to the side, really studying him. “You mean that, don’t you?”

“Of course he does,” Shan said with a laugh, grabbing a teapot and mugs off a shelf. “Our Samuel is a simple man, and there is nothing wrong with that.”

Samuel couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine at that, at being called theirs, but shoved it aside. “Let us help you, Isaac. You’ve had a long day.”

After a moment’s deliberation, Isaac stepped aside, sliding over to the table as he let them take over the tea preparations. Shan bustled about with the tea itself, filling the teapot from a small tin she found, and Samuel scrounged up some sugar and milk from the warded ice box while the kettle boiled.

Eventually, the kettle shrieked, and Samuel grabbed the handle and brought it over to the table, filling the pot and watching the leaves rise and swirl. “There. Everything is better with tea.”

Isaac looked up at him, his dark eyes sad. Hells, now that Samuel was looking closer at him, he realized that Isaac was a wreck, falling apart before his very eyes. “I think this might be more than even tea can fix.”

Shan reached across the table, taking his hand in hers. “You don’t have to explain anything to us. We understand that you’re in an impossible position.”

“Impossible,” Isaac echoed, low and bitter. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Samuel caught Shan’s eye, his brow furrowed, but turned his attention back to Isaac. “Try us then.”

Isaac pulled his hand from Shan’s, settling them in his lap. “I don’t think I can.”

“Can’t?” Samuel asked, “Or won’t?”

It earned a small smile from Isaac. “Can’t.”

“Because you think you’ll lose us?” Shan pressed, and Isaac glanced at her. “Because that won’t happen.”

“You seem so sure,” Isaac whispered, “but you have no idea what I’ve done.” He ran a hand over his face. “I never intended for you to find out, not like this.”

“How then?” Shan asked.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Isaac said with a shrug. “You both know. Did he tell you his theory, then? Is that why you’re here? To protect me?”

“Yes,” Samuel admitted. “And because we care.”

“You shouldn’t.” Isaac pushed away from the table. “And I can take care of myself. I have wards in place, I’m being careful. I’m sure you should be focusing on… finding this murderer.” He spat the word, and Shan leaned forward.

“Do you not want them found?”

“Yes. No.” He ran his hands through his hair, a manic, frantic motion. “It’s just… what they did. What I’ve done. It’s monstrous. Can we really—”

Samuel stepped forward, seizing Isaac’s hand and pulling him to a stop. He rubbed gentle circles against his wrists, trying to soothe him. “They had a choice. You didn’t. Besides—whoever is killing them, it isn’t justice. It’s…”

“Murder,” Shan said. “Terror. It is just causing trouble in the streets, and it won’t solve anything.”

Isaac sucked in a harsh breath. “And yet, if they hadn’t done… this, you never would know the truth.” He started to shake. “No one knows the truth.”

Shan looked away, conflicted. “That is… fair. But this isn’t the solution. It’s what the House of Lords is for. We can change the laws, add in additional protections—”

Isaac laughed, a cruel, cold thing. “You don’t really believe that, do you? The House of Lords have no idea this exists, not even the Royal Council knows. It’s just between the Eternal King, the Royal Blood Worker and what few necessary staff he deems essential.

“Aeravin is broken.”

“I don’t believe it,” Shan said, hotly. “We can fix it.”

Isaac looked at her, sadly, then turned away. “I know we can’t.”

Shan surged to her feet, but Samuel stepped between them. “Hey. Easy.”

For a moment it looked like the argument would continue, but Shan just shook her head. “I know you’re hurting, Isaac. You’re scared. But I will help you, I swear it. I just need to catch a murderer first.” She turned, her skirts swirling around her. “I have work to do.”