Page 167 of A Court of Wings and Shadows

My pulse spiked. “What are you saying? That they’re going to kill him?”

“I’m saying,” Solei said carefully, “that with Dorian away all the time, he’s the only prince in Warriath with the loyalty of the dragons. And that makes him dangerous to Theron, to the court, and to whoever is truly pulling the strings. Dorian will come under fire once he returns from the outer kingdoms. It was fortunate that he left after he was healed.”

My hands clenched at my sides. “And you’re just telling me about this supposed assassination now?” I didn’t tell her someone already tried. Because assassins were mastermanipulators and I had no idea who was the mark. Me or Zander.

“I had to be sure,” she said, almost pleading. “And now I am.”

We stared at each other, two sisters standing on opposite sides of a war neither of us had started.

The game felt much, much bigger than either of us had imagined.

The tension between us was thick enough to choke on, like a blade poised just above the skin. I stood near the door, my hand still on the handle, and Solei hovered near the window like a shadow stitched into the stone.

I wanted to scream at her. Wanted to ask why, after everything, she was only now showing up with warnings and whispered truths.

But her eyes…

They weren’t cold. Not like before. They were sharp, yes, but beneath the sharpness was fear. Not for herself. For me.

“You expect me to trust you now?” I asked, voice low, my heart pounding. “After everything you’ve done?”

“No,” she said simply. “I expect you to listen.”

There was a beat of silence between us.

Then, she stepped closer, her voice dropping into something razor-thin and quiet enough to make my skin prickle. “The rebel sect has ties to the court.”

I blinked. “Which sect?”

She gave me a look that told me it wasn’t a question to her. “The Varnari,” she said. “They’ve infiltrated the palace. They’re inside the royal guard.”

The words landed like thunder.

“No,” I said. “That’s not possible. The guards are vetted—hand-selected.”

“And you think manipulation stops at vows and badges?” she snapped, eyes flaring. “Has the order taught you nothing.The Varnari are patient. Strategic. They’ve been building their influence slowly, weaving through commoners or lowborn houses, finding those with magic, or those who resent the riders.”

She crossed her arms, her voice trembling just slightly. “They don’t want rebellion like the Crimson Sigil. They want control. They want the crown.”

A chill settled into my bones.

Solei stared at me like she was seeing through all the mistrust, all the armor I’d built since her betrayal.

“I didn’t come here to redeem myself, Ashlyn,” she said. “I came here because if Zander dies, if he falls, there won’t be anyone left to stop what’s coming. And you… they’ll use you. Or kill you trying.”

I swallowed hard, the breath shuddering in my chest.

The Order might have raised me, but they never prepared me for this.

For war from within.

Solei shifted toward the window, already pulling her hood back over her braid. Whatever softness had flickered in her expression was gone now, replaced by the cold efficiency I’d grown up with.

“I have to go,” she said, her voice flat and distant again.

I gave a nod. No embrace. No whispered goodbye. Whatever bridge had been rebuilt in that moment was temporary at best, and we both knew it.

She slipped out the door that led to the hallway as silently as she had come.