Page 126 of A Court of Wings and Shadows

And for the first time, I saw hesitation. Not doubt. Not fear. But the kind of restraint that came when youwantedthe answer to be no… but couldn’t swear it was.

Zander’s eyes followed the direction Dorian had gone, his posture rigid as if held together by the sheer force of will. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, tight with something heavier than frustration.

“Theron is a bastard,” he muttered. “There was never a time when he and I got along. Not as boys, not as men. But... he always put the family first. Even when Darmon died.”

I took a step back, breath catching. The pain of those words sank into me like cold stone.

His older brother.

Killed by my father.

The pain flickered in Zander’s lavender eyes, so raw and unhidden it struck something deep inside me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Zander turned to me slowly, his eyes focused. “Don’t ever think I blame you for what Cyran did. You weren’t the blade.”

I swallowed hard, unsure if it made it any better.

He continued, “Besides... someone paid him for that assassination. And I know how the Order works.”

“But you never found out who?” I asked gently.

He shook his head once. “No. There was speculation it was Dorian. People whispered he felt threatened by Darmon. But I never believed that.”

“And Theron?” I asked, the name falling like poison between us.

Zander exhaled through his nose. “He didn’t have the political pull back then to orchestrate something like that. He was ambitious, yes. But unpolished. And your father was paid very handsomely.”

I stared at him. “Cyran took the risk knowing it could lead to Warriath eradicating the Order. He wouldn’t do that for just anybody.”

Zander nodded. “My father almost did.”

I tilted my head. “What stopped him?”

Zander was quiet for a moment. So quiet I thought he might not answer at all.

Then he looked at me, voice grave.

“Remand.”

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

Zander leaned against the stone archway, his arms folded, the fading sunlight casting golden streaks across the planes of his face. His expression had softened from the tension earlier.

“There’s something strange about Remy’s relationship with my father,” he said suddenly, his voice low.

I blinked, surprised by the shift. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know the whole story,” he admitted. “No one does. But the king... favors him. Always has. More than he’s ever favored me. More than he ever did Darmon.”

My brows furrowed. “Why?”

“That’s the strange part.” Zander shrugged, but the movement was tight. “He’s not highborn, and yet my father trusted him with assignments most riders never even hear about. He gave him access, freedom, information. Things I had to earn.”

“That must’ve caused... friction,” I said quietly.