Page 153 of A Court of Wings and Shadows

“He did. But at my father’sinsistence.”

“Why?”

Zander shook his head. “None of us know. My father said he was friends with Remy’s parents. Maybe it was the nature of their deaths… I’m not sure.”

“Remy told me he was an orphan.”

“That’s true. His parents were murdered.” Zander glanced at me. “By the Order.”

My stomach dropped. “What?”

“He never told you?” Zander asked, his voice gentle but lined with something harder.

“No,” I said softly. “But nothing he told me was the truth. Except…” I hesitated. “Solei once called Remythe Assaulter.That’s what the Order called him, and I didn’t understand it until I put it together later, after I learned his real name.”

“She knew, but didn’t tell you?”

“I guess so,” I said. “And I never asked her why. Since…”

“You were reeling from Remy’s reappearance… and Solei trying to kill you,” Zander finished, tone heavier.

“Yeah.That,” I breathed.

Zander was quiet for a few steps, then said, “You should ask her. Why she kept his confidence.”

“I will,” I said. “But honestly? I’m afraid of the answer.”

By then, we’d reached the edge of the charred village square. The Crooked Claw was a hollowed shell of what it had been just hours before, walls blackened, part of the roof gone, beams fallen like broken ribs.

Guards were already there, helping patrons gather what hadn’t been destroyed. Some were guiding shaken villagers back to their homes. Others dragged burnt debris into carts.

We stood together in the street, ash underfoot, and for the first time, it truly felt like we were in the middle of a war.

Ash clung to my boots and the scent of smoke still lingered in my hair as I hauled another blackened beam toward the waiting cart. The Crooked Claw had been gutted, its roof half collapsed, walls scorched, and windows blown out from Katama’s rage. My squad worked alongside the townsfolk, quietly clearing wreckage and pretending we weren’t still recovering from last night’s hellfire.

I was just throwing a charred support beam onto a growing pile when I caught movement beside me.

Solei.

Her hair was darker now, tied back beneath a soot-smeared kerchief. Her clothing was plain and dirtied like the rest of us, and with so many people from the town pitching in, her presence wasn’t suspicious, at least not to anyoneelse.

“Hello, Sister,” she said calmly.

“You gave up the right to call me that when you tried to kill me,” I snapped, not looking at her as I tossed the wood into the cart.

“You know our code,” she said, unfazed. “Father believed you were betraying us.”

“I’veneverbetrayed my family,” I said, turning to glare at her. “And I never will. Thankfully, that no longer includesyouorCyran.”

Her jaw tightened, and for a heartbeat, I saw a flicker of regret, but it passed quickly.

She nodded once. “Understood.”

We worked in silence for a few moments before she asked, “Why did Remy’s dragon try to burn down the tavern?”

I froze mid-step, then turned toward her. “How comeyoudidn’t tell me you knew Remy’s real name, and that he was a royal?”

That caught her. She hesitated. “I screwed up by calling him Ass-saulter. I thought it was a funny inside joke. But I never expected you could become a rider.”