Page 30 of A Court of Thralls and Thorns

I laughed. “Yeah. Cade says he was always this way, but I think they’re better friends than he lets on.”

Tae blinked. “You talked to Cade?” He whistled. “Wow. Yeah, they’re tight. Cade’s father trained Zander and his brothers. He was the best swordsman in the kingdom.”

I frowned. “What happened to him?”

Tae’s expression darkened slightly. “The same thing that happens to every older swordsman. He slowed down and lost a fight.”

Something about the way he said it made my chest hurt.

Tae leaned forward. “Cade was a teenager when it happened. By then, Zander wouldn’t let him be anywhere but his side. Cade might be lowborn, but he and Zander are equals in the ring.”

I studied him. “So Zander just hates me on principle?”

Tae was quiet for a long moment.

“No,” he said finally. “I think it’s personal with you.”

I frowned. “Why?”

Tae hesitated, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “He was very close to his older brother. They both had silver dragons. They looked like twins, even though Zander was younger.”

My stomach sank.

“Shit.”

Tae nodded. “Yeah. That last name of yours would be fatal if you were anywhere but Fourth Guild.”

“But I was supposed to be a healer,” I said.

Tae grunted. “You wouldn’t have lasted two days in the Yarrow Gardens.” His voice dropped, weight behind his words. “We have plenty of healers, Ashlyn. But the prospect of the Sentinel on the field? That’s the only thing keeping you alive.”

A knock at the door cut through the conversation.

Jax grabbed the parchment from the messenger, his brows furrowing as he scanned it.

“Looks like you have another royal date,” he said, handing it to me.

I took the paper, breaking the seal, but it wasn’t from Zander.

Or the guild.

I plastered a fake smile on my face, though my insides churned with unease. Cyran never summoned me unless he needed something.

“Looks like I have to go,” I said, stuffing the parchment into my jacket. “I’ll meet you guys back at the ring in half an hour.”

Tae, Riven, and Jax exchanged wary glances but didn’t question it. Good.

I threw on my jacket and made my way toward the main gate, keeping my steps even, my expression neutral. I searched the line of guards until I found the one with green eyes and a scar on his hand.

He barely acknowledged me as I strode up and handed him the order bearing the royal seal. It was a fake, but as far as the other guards were concerned, I was simply following instructions.

“Be back in thirty minutes,” he said, voice gruff but laced with something close to reluctance.

I nodded, as if I respected his authority, instead of knowing he was on my father’s payroll.

Then, I jogged through the twisting streets of Warriath, to the tavern, weaving between empty tables. It was still too early for the city to be lively, as the usual bustle of the underground crowd was yet to begin.

I slipped through the back door of the quiet-looking establishment, the door blending seamlessly into the stone wall. A short passage led me to a staircase carved into the earth, winding down into the hidden heart of my father’s criminal empire.