Page 54

Twino blinks. “ Oh, and we’re engaged, ” he repeats in a mockery of my phrasing. “You and Prince Kaelis ?” He forces the name out as though it’s in a foreign tongue. The clanking stops as he stiffens. “ You’re the one the void-born is engaged to?”

“Rumors do spread widely.” Yet, as someone who generally doesn’t care for gossip, I’m always amazed by it.

Twino is focused on one thing. “You’re engaged to the same prince who put you into Halazar?”

“It wasn’t him.”

“And you believe that?” Twino gives me a look that suggests I’d be foolish for thinking so. I don’t blame him.

“I do.” I’m shocked at how much conviction I have.

Twino mirrors the emotion. He still oozes doubt. “Who, then?”

“I’ll tell everyone at the same time. I’ve important information to share.”

“I’ll go get them.” Twino slowly rises to his feet. “You might startle them a bit too much if they woke up and saw you over the side of their beds.”

Twino makes his way to the other rooms, and I head downstairs. Silas is still in the lounge, finishing his inking. The black lines dry silver as I enter.

“You’ll be using this room again, I assume?” he asks.

“Likely.”

“No problem, I’m done.” He begins collecting his inking supplies back into the small pouch he wears around his hips. “It must be nice…” The sentiment is little more than a whispered murmur.

“What must be?”

“Having people you’re so close to.” The words are full of longing I don’t want to hear. Don’t make me feel for you.

“They’re pretty amazing.” I sit across from him, meeting his gaze firmly but gently. “And I’ll do anything to protect them.”

He nods. “I can understand that.”

Jura is the next one up; we hear her in the kitchen before she pops her head through the door. “Hello, Clara, Silas. This week is a cinnamon swirl shortbread cookie with a vanilla drizzle.”

“Yes, please.” It’s one of her best recipes.

“May I have one, too?” Silas asks shyly.

“You may have several, because I only know how to cook in single serving, or for small armies, there is no between.” Jura enters with a heaping platter, placing it on the table between us.

Silas seems shocked and delighted as he helps himself to three. Then he excuses himself for the study. I bite my tongue and keep from telling him not to go upstairs. I don’t want him to suspect anything. I need to keep acting normal.

Within ten minutes, everyone else is up. Gregor has stoked a fire and leans against the mantel. Ren is half falling asleep on Twino’s shoulder in the sofa opposite. Jura assumes her position next to me.

“What’s the emergency?” Despite the hour, Bristara is still sharp in her usual seat.

“Prince Ravin was behind my imprisonment in Halazar, I’m nearly certain of it,” I say solemnly and quietly, leaning forward to speak only for them—even if Silas’s ear were pressed against the door. “And I’m not sure if this place is safe any longer.”

A long stretch of silence, filled with wide eyes.

Jura reaches for the platter. “Well, this is cookie news if I ever heardit.”

I tell them everything this time. About the Majors and myself.

About Kaelis’s bid for the World and my intention to steal it when the time comes.

To their credit, everyone takes the fantastical tales in stride.

If anything, it seems to provide an explanation they were missing on why I can do half of what I’m able.

“Now I feel less bad about not being able to learn how to ink with any powder,” Twino murmurs at one point. The rest of them nod in agreement.

At the end, I explain why I now believe Prince Ravin was the one really behind my imprisoning, and how we all need to be more careful than ever because Silas—the man milling about right now—might have been, could still be, his mole.

I cannot stand the disapproving glint to Bristara’s stare.

Her silence throughout it all has been deafening.

She was skeptical of Silas from the first moment.

I want to defend myself and double down that I was only doing what I thought was best. What I had to.

But I also know I’ve proved her instincts right.

“We could just kill him now.” Gregor cracks his knuckles.

“No, Clara is right. It’s best not to arouse suspicion without solid proof,” Twino says begrudgingly.

“I was getting so comfortable here.” Jura sighs heavily.

“Better to know what might be coming and act than to be caught off guard again.” Ren seems to have deflated into the sofa, looking far more awake. “What do we do now?”

“With the additional supplies Clara can bring us, we can do enough jobs to find another place to buy—or rent.” Twino stares at nothing and no one—his usual look when he’s running the finances of the club in his mind. “We’ll be able to find somewhere else within half a year, a little more.”

“Nowhere as easy or as comfortable as this,” Jura laments. She looks to Bristara. “You don’t know of any other homes abandoned by noble clans we can take over, do you?”

“Unfortunately not. But let’s not be hasty.

” As Bristara speaks, she presses her fingertips together.

“We will make our own subtle preparations, certainly. But until we know for sure, we will not make any bold decisions.” Her eyes swing to me, landing hard.

“I expect you to come up with the truth of what happened and if it involved Silas or not. The rest of it, we will carry on as normal, for now.”

All I can manage is another nod. I hate the weight of her disapproval. Of feeling like I failed them all once more. The fateful night that I was caught will forever haunt me. But my mother’s murderer…I thought it was a lead.

“If Silas was behind you being caught and the club being destroyed…” Gregor’s attention is affixed on the door. “He’s mine when the time comes.”

“Get in line,” Ren adds. The rest of them murmur their agreement, and I have yet another task on my growing list of seemingly impossible tasks: find out the truth, once and for all, of what happened the night I was taken.